The Fledgling Verse - Part One
by SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: A series of stories in K's "Fledgling Verse" cross posted from AO3. More info inside!
1. Being Different

_Hey everyone, this is K, not J. I posted this on my AO3 account but I decided to go ahead and cross post it over here to J's FFN account, since I don't have one of my own._

 _So J and I got into a drunken argument and he challenged me to write a nephilim story kind of like his series, only how I think it should've been done, because apparently drunken-me had fantastic ideas about what should've been done with a nephilim Spencer. My brain went two directions. The other direction seemed to traumatize people, so I wrote out this version. Basically, it's all based off this question here:_

 _"What if instead of finding Jesse, the young Cambion, a case took them to Vegas where they found a nephilim—adult Spencer with barely growing powers, visiting his mother?"_

 _I took it from there and ran with it. This here is the prologue, so it's short, and I hope you guys like it._

* * *

There had never been a moment of his life where Spencer Reid hadn't known that he was, different. Even when he'd been so very young, he'd always known it, always accepted that it was just a part of him. He was _different_. Sometimes it was a bad thing—earning him mockery and beatings from his fellow classmates—but sometimes it was a good thing too. His mother had always made him feel like the things that made him different were also what made him special. It was something that he loved her dearly for.

No matter how different he became, no matter what happened, his mother always had some kind of spin on it to help put it into a more positive light. She never panicked. The same couldn't be said for his father. Where William feared the things his son could do, Diana embraced them.

Outside of the home she taught Spencer to keep them to himself and to be discreet, because discretion could keep him safe and alive. Inside the home, she treated the things he could do like they were normal. Like it was no big deal that he could make things float through the air, or memorize a text with just a single glance. Even when he told her about the pretty light that lived inside of him, she just smiled at him and brought him up in her bed with her and she'd lay there for hours and listen to him talk about his light and all the things it could do. She never made him feel like a freak. And when his father did, when William lashed out in an anger born of his fear, she was right there to defend her son every time she could. It only made Spencer love her more.

In that home, Spencer grew up knowing that he was different and that some people would celebrate it while others would fear it. That belief was reinforced when he was twelve and graduated from the Las Vegas public high school, again when he was thirteen and started college, and again when he was fifteen and he earned his first doctorate. He learned it even more when he was twenty and had three doctorates and three B.A.'s to his name. When the FBI came to him and asked him to join, when Jason Gideon hand picked him to join the BAU and he became the youngest to ever graduate the Academy, Spencer knew it was because he was different.

His team never knew just how different he really was, but what they did know, they may have teased him for but they also embraced him for it. They accepted him as who he was. And again, Spencer found himself in a place where there were a few who feared his difference, but where he was surrounded by those who enjoyed it.

He just never knew how different he truly was.

Not until Georgia.

Not until he was kidnapped during a case and made to face himself inside a small little shack at the hands of someone who swore they were doing God's will. Not until the day he was drugged and beaten until he overdosed and died on camera in front of his friends, and was brought back to life by the very man who killed him.

Spencer was brought down lower than ever before in that cabin and he brought himself down even lower in the weeks following as he lost himself in the very same thing that had caught him up there. He sought oblivion in the tip of a needle and for a short little while, it worked. It numbed him until he couldn't think or feel. Until he didn't feel different anymore; he didn't feel at all. He was the same as any junkie curled up on the streets.

Nothing penetrated that fog around him until the day his inattention and slowed reactions almost cost one of his friends their life because he'd been too low, craving too much, and hadn't drawn his gun in time. If Derek hadn't been there to draw as well, Emily could've very well lost her life because of Spencer. That was the moment he knew he had to stop. And that marked the moment that his life began to change, forever.

* * *

Spencer didn't notice at first that there was really anything 'wrong' with him, so to speak. All of the strange things that he noticed he just attributed to coming down off the Dilaudid. When the telekinesis that had been there his whole life started to go a little haywire, a little stronger than he'd ever noticed it before, he just figured it was sort of the same principal as the mood swings or the fluctuations of energy that he got as his body adjusted to no longer having the drug. When he started to get headaches, he figured that was a normal part of withdrawal. Even the growing ache in his back could be considered part of his withdrawals.

It was the other things that worried him.

Having grown up with a schizophrenic for a mother, it made Spencer painfully aware of the mental issues a person could suffer from and the likelihood that he could one day end up like her. So when he started to feel strange bursts of what felt like other people's emotions, or whispered words when he couldn't see anyone around him talking, he got scared. More than just scared—terrified.

No matter how old he got, when he became this afraid, there was only one person he'd ever been able to turn to.

Arranging for the time off was easy. Everyone had been so worried about him lately it wasn't difficult to convince Aaron that he just needed a bit of time. Soon enough Spencer was on a flight to Vegas to go and visit the one person in the world he knew he could count on more than anyone else—his mother. He was beyond lucky that she was in the middle of a streak of 'good days' when he arrived. She was coherent, knew where she was and who she was, and she knew him on sight.

He missed the days where he could talk to her about his problems. Where he didn't have to worry about cameras and doctors and nurses that might overhear what he said and try to lock him away with her. How could he tell her that he was hearing voices and feeling other people's emotions and not risk having anyone who overheard him think that he was crazy too? How could he tell her that the light he'd always carried inside of him seemed so much bigger, so much _more_ , than it ever had before? He couldn't tell her about the very private, very discreet doctor that he saw while there, who looked at his head and his back and proclaimed that there were no physical reasons for either one to be hurting him the way that they were.

He definitely couldn't tell her about how he'd been curled up in his motel bed with his head pounding and had wished for a bottle of aspirin or something to ease it, only to have a bottle appear in his hand.

It was that one that truly brought home that this wasn't him going crazy, that the whispers and feelings that he was picking up weren't a byproduct of a mental break brought on by his kidnapping and subsequent addiction.

These were his powers, and they were growing.

That made it all so much harder to talk about. Because he'd been raised to keep this part of him quiet. He couldn't let other people know.

It wasn't just doctors and his coworkers and the Bureau that Spencer had to worry about finding out about these things—it was Hunters, too.

His years away from home had opened up a world for him that he hadn't known existed when he was young. The 'monsters' that he'd seen as a child and shied away from, the terrifying faces that sometimes lurked underneath people's skin, took on a whole new meaning when he saw them as an adult. The very first time he met a Hunter who saved him from one of those monsters, a monster he later learned was a demon possessing a human, Spencer had been full of questions and he'd been lucky enough to have a Hunter who had willingly answered them all. He'd explained about the whole supernatural world to Spencer and opened his eyes to so many things he'd never realized before. Not only did it answer his questions about other things, it answered a few about _himself_ as well.

Spencer had walked away from that meeting with the knowledge that he was something supernatural, though he had no idea _what_ , and that there were people out there who hunted things like him. He learned to respect the men and women who hunted and kept them safe from the things that no one else believed even existed—and he learned to fear them.

Little did he know it was Hunters who, in the end, would hurt him the most, and who would help to save him.


	2. Am I Evil? Part 1

"Dude, this is gonna be great."

Sam Winchester rolled his eyes at his brother's enthusiasm and turned towards the window to hide his smile. He and Dean were currently on their way to a case that Bobby had sent them on—one that was taking them to Las Vegas, Nevada. The fact that Bobby had chosen to send _them_ of all the hunters out there to a place like _Vegas_ clued Sam in that the case was important, or there had to be no one else available. Because both Sam and Bobby had learned a long time ago that setting Dean loose in a town like Vegas was just asking for trouble. There was a reason the brothers only went there once a year.

He couldn't help but remind his brother, "You do remember we're going here for a case, right?"

The grin that Dean shot his way loosened some of the knot in Sam's stomach and lightened the weight on his shoulders just the slightest bit. "Course I do, Sammy! That don't mean we can't have a little bit of fun."

This was the most that Sam had seen his brother smile in a long, long time. Not that there'd really been anything to smile about lately. The two had only recently joined back together after their break apart and, though they'd ironed out some things on their last case, that didn't mean stuff was perfect between them. There were a lot of things that were still between them. Sam knew that his brother was still angry with him. Could he blame him? Letting the devil free wasn't exactly something that was easy to forgive. But they'd had their time apart and they'd both learned, they were better off together. Not just that, but their last case had showed them just how things between them needed to change.

Acknowledging where they'd done wrong didn't instantly make things better. It gave them a place to start from, though.

Unable to resist, the little brother inside of Sam had him slanting a look over at Dean and smirking ever so slightly. "Hopefully we don't run into any celebrities while we're out there." It was a subtle dig to their last case, when the leshii that they'd gone after had taken the form of Paris Hilton—and beat the crap out of Dean.

He should've known better. Dean didn't even blink before firing back "No kidding, dude. I don't think you could take getting beat up by another guy in a diaper."

Sam scowled and Dean gave a grin that was pure big-brother-pride at having scored one over his little brother. Satisfied with that, he brought their talk back around to the case. "So, run this by me again."

Only for a second did Sam hesitate. Then he shook his head and turned himself in his seat so he could better look at his brother as he spoke. "Bobby said there's a lot of weird stuff happening around here lately. Sick people mysteriously getting better, a rush of jackpot winners at the casinos. There are even reports of people waking up in the hospital suddenly 'healed'."

"Those sounds like _good_ things." Dean pointed out.

"Things like this don't just happen, Dean. There's something going on here."

"Yeah, sure, of course there is. But since we do we hunt down the good stuff? I mean, healings, people living when they should've died—all that falls in the 'good' column in my books. Why are we hunting it down?"

Sam couldn't quite keep in the slightly derisive sound that he made. Rolling his eyes, he leaned back against the seat and arched his eyebrows at his brother. "Since when has anything this good come without a price tag? Ever?"

"True." Dean conceded. He tapped his fingers against the wheel for a moment. "So, what, we're thinking crossroads demon?"

It was the most logical thing. Sam couldn't think of anything else offhand that would be able to cause so much goodwill in one area like this. A demon going around making deals, however, _did_. "Seems our best bet."

"You do realize we can't save them from their deals, right?" The older Winchester snuck a look over at him, expression serious.

Sam winced. Yeah, he knew they couldn't save them. They'd learned that lesson the hard way. There was no way out of demon deals. That wasn't something he was likely to ever forget. "I know. But we can stop them before they make anymore." Besides which, there was a part of Sam that could admit that his brother had been right on their last case. Dean had said he'd wanted to take that last case, the one with the leshii, because he and Sam had a lot of work they needed to do to be able to start fixing their relationship and working as a team again. Putting on the training wheels, so to speak. At the time Sam had been a little offended by the idea. Now, after the way they'd worked together and the things they'd put out there in the open between them, maybe he was right.

He watched his brother tapping along to the music and smiling a little to himself, despite what they were going to do, and Sam couldn't help his own small smile. This case might be good for them.

* * *

One quick stop at the motel to drop off their things and change into their FBI suits and the two were heading out to go to the hospital that had recently become the home of so many miracles. In his research for this case, Sam had found three miraculous healings all centered around this one hospital. A twenty two year old woman who'd been in a coma for the past three months who'd suddenly woken up, without any troubles whatsoever. An eight year old boy whose leukemia hadn't just gone into remission—it was simply _gone_. And last, a thirty four year old woman whose brain tumor seemed to be shrinking more and more with each passing day, though no doctor could explain the why or how of it.

Coma girl was gone, already back home with her family, so Sam and Dean split to talk to the remaining two. Dean took the little boy, Marshall Dryfus, while Sam went to speak with the tumor lady, Michelle Hughes.

The woman was sitting in her bed when Sam was escorted in. She was smiling brightly at him and the doctor who was leading him in here, green eyes warm inside a heart shaped face. Brown hair had been pulled back and braided down to dangle over one shoulder. If it hadn't been for the hospital gown she wore and the equipment she was hooked up to, she would've looked the picture of good health.

"Michelle." The doctor smiled at her as he moved up to her bed, immediately going to check her chart just like all doctors did when entering their patient's room. At the same time, he brought Sam forward so that they were right up by her bedside. "This here is FBI Agent Plant. He's hoping to speak with you if you're feeling up to it."

Sam pulled his badge out to show it to the woman, who was watching him with surprise. "Speak with me? About what?"

There was always that immediate worry in civilians when they were faced with an officer of some kind. Sam had seen it plenty of times before and, really, he understood. The instinctive response, no matter who you were, was to wonder what you'd done wrong. Usually after that came the worry that someone you loved had done something wrong, or been involved in something, or were hurt. It was just the normal cycle of fears that went through a person when they were unexpectedly faced with law enforcement. Sam put on his best smile and tried to reassure her with the only thing he'd been able to concoct on his way up here that might explain his presence. "I know it might seem strange, ma'am, but I just need to ask you a few questions, that's all. We've had some reports of someone going around offering a miracle cure-all to people that, uh, that seems to work great only to end up going very bad. Deadly, even."

Michelle looked stunned by his question. Her eyes went a little wide and her mouth dropped open ever so slightly in what Sam could see was honest surprise. "That's horrible!"

"It is. We're just looking to catch this man, so maybe, if you don't mind, I could ask you a few questions? Just to see if you've come into contact with this man at all during your stay here."

"Of course, of course. Please," She gestured with one hand towards the chair by her bed. "I don't remember seeing anyone like that, but I'll answer any questions that you have."

The doctor left them as Sam took the seat that Michelle had offered him. He settled himself down into his chair and pulled out the little notebook he kept inside his jacket pocket. "So, you're saying you haven't seen or spoken with anyone here who might've offered you some kind of miracle cure?"

The woman shook her head. A hint of a wry smile ghosted over her lips. "I haven't spoken with anyone who offered me any kind of cure at all, real or special." One of her hands came up and she tapped at the side of her hair. "Brain tumor, inoperable. I wasn't here to get better, Agent Plant. The doctors don't put it bluntly but I knew the truth. I was here to die. They gave me no more than two weeks, tops. Now? Now, they're saying they could operate this weekend to take the rest out, but they might not even have to. It's still shrinking all on its own."

"And you didn't participate in some, experimental treatment or something like that?" Sam probed.

"Nope." Michelle's smile grew again and warmed into something that held just a hint of awe in it. It took years off her, making her face both younger and prettier, chasing away the lines that stress had left behind and giving Sam a glimpse of the woman she'd probably been before this disease had ruined her life—the woman it sounded like she was going to get the chance to be again.

Sam hadn't really expected to talk with these people and have them come right out and admit that they'd made some sort of demon deal. Still, he'd expected to see something in them, some signs of them lying to cover it up, or a general shiftiness when questioned about this. Instead, Michelle was sitting there calm and happy as can be, and the young hunter had the feeling that it was all honest. But if she hadn't made a deal—then what? "What do you think's responsible for your recovery, Ms. Hughes?"

The smile she wore grew wider and brighter. "I believe God answered my prayers."

"God?" Sam's eyebrows went up with surprise. God?

"Yes. I've prayed and I've prayed for help and I think He finally heard me and helped me. It's the only explanation for such a miracle. I believe God healed me."

* * *

Twenty minutes later Sam was still shaking his head as he walked back into the motel room. His brother followed behind him, carrying the bags of food they'd picked up on their way back here. "So, she seriously thought that _God_ was responsible for her healing?" Dean said derisively as he came into the room. He kicked the door shut behind him and went over to the small wooden table, dropping the bags of food down. "Wow. If only she knew the truth, huh? God doesn't give a shit about her or anyone else in that hospital."

Meeting angels had brought a lot of questions into Sam's life and challenged quite a bit of his faith. However, he still carried enough in him to wince at Dean's words. To try and cover it up, he reached up to tug at the knot of his tie. The damn thing felt like it was choking him. "The point is, it doesn't really seem like she made any kind of deal at all. I pushed at it from all angles, Dean, and I got nothing."

The two hunters shed their jackets and settled down opposite one another at the table. Sam brought his laptop with him and set it to the side so he could use it to research in a bit. For the moment, he pulled out the chicken wrap from the bag in front of him and started to unwrap it. Dean had grabbed his own burgers and was already digging in to one of them. With his typical show of _fantastic_ manners, he spoke around the burger in his mouth, smirking when he saw Sam's disgusted look. "Yeah. I talked to the kid and his Mom both and didn't get any demon-y feel off them, either. An there's no Dad in the picture to have made a deal."

"It doesn't seem like anyone made any sort of deal." Sam said.

"Well what else could bring all this kind of stuff?"

"I don't know." And that was the kicker. Sam had no idea. He'd been trying to think about it and so far he wasn't really coming up with all that much. "Nothing I know of would _want_ to spread goodwill. Unless…"

Dean arched an eyebrow at him when he stopped. "Unless what?"

For a brief second, Sam hesitated. This wouldn't go over all that well, he knew. And it really was farfetched. But, he had to throw it out there. "Maybe it's an angel." They were the only things he knew of that could heal like this and the only things that _might_ want to help out a group of humans. Not likely, he knew, but possible.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, you know as well as I do that angels don't give a crap about stuff like this."

"I know, I know. But what else is going to go around doing miraculous healings like this?"

Neither one of them had an answer for that.

* * *

They didn't get any kind of break in the case until the next morning. Sam was set up once more at the table with his laptop open in front of him, drinking some of the motel's crappy complimentary coffee while he waited for his brother to get back with breakfast. He'd just finished his cup when he came across a story that caught his interest. It was enough to have him sitting forward to read quickly through the article he found, plus the other articles that he found from there. "Huh." He muttered to himself at the same time that the door to their room opened.

Dean took one look at him and immediately asked "Find something?"

"I don't know." Sam murmured. Ignoring his brother, who was coming in and setting down their breakfast, he read through the rest of the story before he sat back in his seat, eyebrows raised. Well. This was just getting more and more odd. "So, get this. Apparently last night there was a car wreck. Three car pileup, one car almost completely totaled."

"Okay. Crappy, but, it happens." Dean said. He had slid down into the same seat he'd had last night while they'd eaten their dinner. The scene was a familiar one between them; seated at a motel table sharing a meal together, a laptop open between them and a case their topic of conversation. They'd done this in plenty of places throughout their lives. There was a hint of comfort to be found in that.

Lifting an eyebrow, the younger Winchester looked up from his laptop to meet Dean's gaze. "Every single person walked away without a scratch. _Including_ the woman and three kids in the squashed car."

Surprise lit up Dean's face. "Damn."

"Yeah."

"Well that definitely rules out crossroads. There's no time to make a deal in a situation like that." Sighing, Dean shook his head and pulled out the breakfast sandwiches he'd gotten, passing two over to Sam. "Well, I'll see your crazy and raise you some more. Down at the McDonalds down the road I heard a couple people talking about anther lady who won at the casino last night. Apparently she bet like, ten bucks and walked away with a couple hundred thousand. _And_ I heard some kid outside talking to each other about a fire a few days ago that apparently this whole family managed to get out of without a single burn between them."

It only took a little work on the laptop for Sam to find those stories. Both of them were true—he found the fire story easily enough on the local news site, and on another site he found a news story about the woman who had bet her last ten dollars, apparently all she had, in the hopes of turning it into enough money to support her family for the month and she'd managed to walk away with four hundred grand by the time the night was done.

Sam went over to his bag and pulled out the local map that he'd picked up yesterday. He'd already marked off the incidents they'd discovered yesterday. Adding in the recent ones and it was making an interesting picture. Sam made another mark on the map and then stood back. "Huh. Look at this."

Dean moved up beside him and leaned over the map that Sam had spread out on the bed, watching as Sam pointed out each spot he'd marked. "This is the hospital where all those people were magically 'healed'. Over here is the car wreck…"

"That everyone walked away from."

"Right. And these are the places where all those little 'wishes' keep coming true. All of it's located inside this two-mile radius."

Straightening up, Dean cocked his head at the pattern that Sam had put there. "So, we got a blast zone of weird, and inside, miracles come true?"

"Looks like." Sam agreed.

Dean tapped the space in the middle of it. "And what's the A-bomb at its center?"

"A hospital. Bennington Sanitarium."

The two brothers shared a look and Dean flashed him a grin. "Then I guess it's time to go visit the funny farm."


	3. Am I Evil? Part 2

Getting into a sanitarium isn't exactly the easiest thing in the world. There were only a few ways that either Winchester could think of, and their best bet seemed to be continuing to use the FBI personas that they'd been using so far. As agents they figured they should be able to get more information than they would as anything else. Besides which, cases always went smoother if they used the same alias everywhere. It kept them from messy situations where their two covers ended up colliding and were completely blown.

So the boys put on their suits once more and Sam, with a bit of help from Bobby, managed to get them in to talk with one of the doctors at the sanitarium.

"How the hell did you two manage it?" Dean asked as he climbed out of the car.

Sam straightened up and shut his door behind him. "Bobby called in, acting as our Unit Chief to request a visit. He said it was pretty easy after that."

"That gets us in to talk to the doc. It doesn't get us a chance to look around the place or check out any of the patients."

"One step at a time." Sam murmured. He adjusted his jacket and looked up at the building in front of him, wondering what they were going to find in there. What on earth could be in there that would have that kind of power? More to the point, _why_? Why do all this? It didn't make sense. If it wasn't a crossroads demon, what out there would do things like this—and what kind of price tag would be tacked on with all these little miracles? Sam shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused back on his brother. "This was our only real way in. This place is private and well maintained, Dean. The people who stay here pay for more than just care; they pay for security, too." It was actually a little impressive just how secure the place was.

Together, the brothers made their way up to the front doors. It was easy to slip into that FBI persona. When Sam had first gone back on the road with Dean again it had felt so strange to try it. He'd always felt like a kid trying to play dress up. But now? Now, he had enough experience under his belt to be confident, and that confidence seemed to be key. It was amazing how much people accepted that you belonged somewhere if you simply acted like you did.

Once they got inside they had to spend a few minutes at the front desk verifying that they were who they said they were. Only when she was sure did the woman let them inside, calling over a nurse to have her escort them to a Doctor Ryan Louis.

They found the doctor in what looked to be a dayroom. He was an elderly man, with grey hair, glasses, and a kind smile. Sam watched him carefully while he wrapped up whatever he was saying with a patient nearby. When he saw them, he nodded and made a small gesture indicating they way. Sam and Dean moved to the side of the room and stood out of the way to wait for him. It gave them a moment or two to look around at things. Dean turned towards Sam just a little while looking over the dayroom. "This is gonna be a nightmare. How are we supposed to look around? Hell, what are we even looking for?"

That was a good question. They had no idea really what it was they were actually looking for. "I don't know." Sam murmured. "There's gotta be something, though. We've worked with less."

"Yeah, and that's so much fun." Dean grumbled.

Any reply Sam might've come up with was cut off as he saw the doctor moving towards them. Smoothing out his expression, Sam straightened up just the slightest bit until he once more had that smooth, in control look. His smile was polite and friendly as he took a step forward and held out his hand to the doctor. "Dr. Louis?"

"I am." Dr. Louis confirmed. He shook Sam's hand first and then Dean's. "Thank you for your patience, Agents…"

"Page, and this is my partner Plant." Dean introduced them.

"We appreciate you meeting with us, Dr. Louis." Sam said. "Especially on such short notice.

The doctor nodded his head at them and folded his hands in front of him. "Of course. Your supervisor mentioned that some of my patients might be in danger."

Sam kept quiet and watched as Dean spun the same tale that they'd been telling everyone about someone who was selling miracle cures. "We understand that speaking with your patients is out of the question." Dean said, his charming smile out full force. "We were just hoping we could maybe speak with your employees, see if maybe they know anything."

"I'm sure I can arrange for them to come back to a room and speak privately with you." Dr. Louis said slowly, looking just a little worried. Was that a worry that one of his employees had done something, or worry over them wanting to speak with anyone at all? It was something worth watching.

This time it was Sam who smiled. "That sounds perfect, Dr. Louis. While my partner does that, I'd like to take a look around."

That had Dr. Louis looking even more worried than before. This time Sam understood, though. Considering where they were and some of the conditions that the patients here suffered from, it was no wonder that the man would be worried about letting an FBI agent wander through here. Not only would he not want to risk some stranger upsetting a patient, he most likely didn't want to risk a patient upsetting the FBI. Often paranoid delusions could involve the government in some form or another. Just having them in the dayroom here had to run the risk of making a patient or two slightly nervous. Sam braced himself, prepared to try and talk his way through this just like he had so many situations before, when suddenly there was another voice coming from off to the side. "Dr. Louis, is there a problem over here?"

The doctor looked up and the expression that crossed his face was what Sam would call relieved. "Dr. Reid!"

Sam and Dean both turned to look up at the newcomer who was joining them. He didn't really look like much at first glance. Tall and skinny, with shaggy hair that barely hid a face that was gradually leaving behind thin and flirting with _gaunt_ , the guy gave off the image of harmless. Even his clothes added to that; the slacks, the button up white shirt and skinny tie, and the brown professor's jacket with the patches on the elbows like what Sam had seen some of the older professors wear back at Stanford. All of that gave off a certain image that probably made most people dismiss him outright. Sam might've, too, if he hadn't caught sight of his eyes.

Eyes gave away a lot about a person. This kid's eyes—and he had to be a kid, couldn't be any older than his early twenties—spoke of someone who had seen and done a whole lot more than most. The minute those eyes landed on them, Sam saw them widen briefly with something that looked like recognition before they narrowed and sharpened.

Sam shot his brother a quick look and noticed that Dean had seen the same thing. _Shit_.

The doctor seemed to have missed most of what had gone on around him. He opened up their circle a little and easily let this Dr. Reid step up beside him. "Dr. Reid, these are Agents Page and Plant."

"Doctor, huh? You seem a little young to be working here." Dean said, flashing a grin that was probably meant to be charming. Sam wanted to roll his eyes at him. Yeah, great way to keep out of trouble with this guy who apparently _recognized them_. Mock him for how young he looks.

Dr. Reid didn't seem bothered by it, though. "I don't work here. I'm here visiting a patient." Without giving Sam or Dean a chance to say anything else, or to even figure out how the hell they were going to get out of this, the kid turned to the doctor beside him and his expression softened into a friendly sort of look that nicely hid the edginess and caution Sam could still see in his eyes. "Dr. Louis, why don't you go ahead and go back to work? I haven't worked with them personally, but I know who they are. I'll find out what's going on and take care of it."

"Thank you, Dr. Reid. And we'll continue our own conversation later."

Dr. Reid smiled at him. "Absolutely." That smile faded away as he turned back towards Sam and Dean. That caution was back, as well as something else that Sam couldn't quite recognize. "Agents. Why don't we step outside? This sounds like it might be a conversation we want to keep as private as possible. There's no need to upset the patients here."

"Of course." Dean said easily. Still, he and Sam exchanged another look as the doctor gestured for them to go forward.

They stayed quiet the whole way out of the building. Dr. Reid seemed calm as could be as he followed them outside and down the driveway. He acted perfectly content to follow them. None of the three men said a word until they were almost to the parking lot. Neither Sam nor Dean had been willing to break the silence and Dr. Reid had apparently not wanted to speak so close to the sanitarium. It looked like he wanted just as much privacy as them for this. That was both good and bad. Sam exchanged another look with Dean and his brother gave a small, almost miniscule nod. They were going to have to play this very, very carefully.

The two were so prepared for trouble, they were completely stunned when they stopped by their car and turned to look at their shadow and the young doctor immediately told them "I know who you are." He flushed right after he said it, like he hadn't quite meant to blurt the words out so bluntly. But Sam watched him draw himself up straight and square his shoulders back and push on. "I'm not here to stop you and I'm not here to take over whatever hunt you're on. But someone very important to me is a patient in there and if she's at risk from something, I want to know."

Wait a second—this kid knew about hunting?

Dean seemed to be having the same thought. "You know about hunting?"

"Are you a hunter, too?" Sam asked.

The kid huffed out a breath that sounded both embarrassed and amused. "Me?" He shook his head, some of his shaggy hair getting in his face as he did. One long-fingered hand came up to brush it back behind his ear again in a gesture that looked just a bit nervous. "No, I'm not a hunter, not in the sense that you are. I'm simply someone who knows a little something about it."

"And how do you know who we are?" Dean demanded.

With one hand, the kid reached down into the messenger bag he wore and pulled out something that Sam recognized almost immediately. He had one exactly like it in his pocket. Only, as the kid opened it and Sam looked closely, he could see with stunned disbelief that these credentials were real. "SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. I work at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI. You hunt monsters for a living – so do I. Mine are simply of the human variety." He folded his credentials up and slipped them back into his bag. "Most agents know who the Winchesters are. My boss helped consult on the profile when Henriksen asked for one."

" _You're_ an agent?" The absolutely stunned tone to Dean's words had the kid's expression tightening in what Sam thought might be a grimace, only it was covered up too quickly, too smoothly, to really be able to tell. He looked calm and composed as he nodded at them. "I am. And you two are hunters—two of the best, if stories are to be believed. You've also managed to thus far avoid answering my question. What are you here hunting?"

The mulish look that hardened Dean's features was a familiar one. Sam knew his brother wasn't going to give this kid anything, or at least try to just brush him off. If he had family in there, though, he had a right to know, and he might even be able to help them. "Dean." Sam said lowly, catching hold of his brother's arm and pulling him back just the slightest bit. He looked up at Spencer and then back down to Dean's stormy eyes. "Cool it. He might be able to help us. We can't wander around in there, but if he's as well-known as he looked, _he_ can. We can't afford to turn down help on this."

It was easy to see when Dean realized he was right. It was also easy to see just how little he liked it. Still, they couldn't ignore a resource like this, and this wasn't just some civilian they were bringing in. This Spencer kid seemed to know about the supernatural. That meant he _might_ recognize things others didn't. It all depended on how much he actually knew.

"Fine." Dean growled out.

The two brothers moved to lean against the impala. Sam began the explanation, telling Spencer of the cases that had brought them to town and the things that they'd come across since their arrival. They took turns explaining what they'd found. It was as Dean described talking to the boy in the hospital that Sam saw the first hint of something cross Spencer's features. He wasn't sure what, though. It was carefully covered up. But, Sam had seen it.

It flashed there again when they talked about the things they'd found this morning. "We charted all of these things on a map." Sam said, carefully watching Spencer's face. There was something going on here. He _knew_ something. "All of these incidents seem to be within a two mile radius of _here_."

"Have you noticed anything strange going on here?" Dean asked. "Anything odd or weird. Something you can't explain."

Spencer looked right at them, and it was only because Sam was such a practiced liar that he recognized as the skill was being put to use against him. "I haven't seen anything like that." Spencer looked from one brother to the other and furrowed his eyebrows a little with a slightly confused expression. "Are you sure it's centered around here specifically? Geographical profiling can be affected by multiple different variables."

Disbelief showed clearly on Dean's face. "You're telling us you haven't seen anything?"

"I haven't, I'm sorry."

Something in the back of Sam's mind was prickling; a sense he'd developed over the years in hunting that told him to tread very carefully here, and to look a little closer. "Maybe it happened before you were here. Did you just arrive in town this morning, by chance?" His question was a probing one and he could see that Spencer recognized it.

"I've been busy visiting my mother." Spencer said, spreading his hands a little in an innocent pose, even as he took a half step back. His eyes had darkened some and they were showing the nerves he was so expertly keeping off the rest of his body. "There's a chance I simply missed things around me. I don't often get to see her."

Dean pushed off the car and straightened himself up. "Now who's the one avoiding answering the question?"

Panic flashed there and gone again in Spencer's eyes. Sam looked at him and he knew—Spencer was connected to all this. How, he wasn't sure, but that panic made it clear that he was. It also made it clear that the doctor was about to bolt on them. Sam pushed off the car and moved to stand beside his brother, lifting his hands in a gesture he'd meant to show peace. Whatever was going on here it didn't feel threatening to him. Spencer didn't seem like a threat.

However, Spencer must've felt that _Sam_ was a threat. The minute his hands went up, everything went to hell.

Without any warning, Sam went flying backwards, slamming into the trunk of the impala and sliding across it to land on the ground on the other side. He hit hard, his shoulder screaming out a protest when it connected with the solid ground. He didn't let himself stop to feel it. Grunting and cradling his arm close, he used his other arm to shove himself up off the ground. Before he got upright he heard another grunt and what sounded like a solid blow against the impala and it only made him move faster. _Dean_!

It wasn't Dean who was on the ground when Sam pushed up, though. He found his brother standing over the limp form of Dr. Spencer Reid. His brother met his gaze across the back of the car and that look clearly asked _Are you okay?_ When Sam nodded, Dean nodded back. "C'mon, Sammy, help me get him in the car. We need to get outta here before someone comes out and sees this."

"We can't just kidnap a federal agent, Dean!" Sam hissed. Still, he hurried around the car and helped to scoop up the doctor's slender body. Dean got the back door open and they hurried to get him inside. "Bitch later." Dean growled out, slamming the door and turning to hurry around to the driver's seat. "Right now I wanna get him somewhere secure before he wakes back up. Then I think it might be time to call in some backup."

A minute later the impala was speeding out of the parking lot.

* * *

It didn't take them long to find an empty warehouse. Sam speculated to himself that it was kind of ridiculous how easy these always were to find in cities. He wasn't going to question it, though. Not when they needed to make use of them for once instead of the bad guys. They found a large, empty one and dragged the still unconscious doctor out into the middle of it. Sam looked at him as he set him down and was worried at how long he'd been out so far. "How hard did you hit him?"

"He'll be fine." Dean insisted. He was busy quickly drawing up a devil's trap for them. They had no idea what they were up against here and so they weren't going to take any chances. As soon as the devil's trap was done, they put him in the middle and then worked on putting more protection around it in the hopes that _something_ would hold.

When Dean brought over their jar of holy oil, Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" Defensive, Dean looked down at the oil and then back up at him. "I'm not taking any chances. Just cause I believe angels are too big of douches to actually _help_ people doesn't mean I'm gonna chance going up against something that could be one without the right protection."

"You're getting smart in your old age." Sam teased.

"Bite me, college boy."

He'd just finished laying down the last of the oil in a circle around all their other protective sigils, outside of them so as not to ruin them, when a soft rustle in the air announced the arrival of the one they'd been waiting for. The brothers had called Castiel on their way over here only to have the angel's phone go to voicemail. Dean had left him a message in the hopes that he'd get back to them soon. This was, thankfully, sooner than they'd anticipated.

Castiel landed near Dean as he almost always did. At least he didn't land pressed right up against him. Though, Sam wouldn't put it past him. The thought was almost enough to make Sam snicker to himself. Almost. He lost any desire to laugh when he watched Castiel turn towards their unconscious guest and his whole body snapped taunt in a display of emotion the angel didn't typically show. He said one single word that most definitely wasn't in English. Beside him, Dean straightened up and watched his angel's face carefully. "Cas?"

"It is lucky you found him." Castiel told them.

Dean let out a low laugh that didn't hold any real humor to it. "Trust me, that's pretty much what it was. Luck. He's got something to do with our case, though, and he's got powers. Do you know what he is, Cas?"

As Sam moved closer to join them, he saw a look on Castiel's face that he hadn't ever expected to see there; disgust. It was the same sort of look the other angels gave to Sam. The one they wore when they called him the abomination. "He is a nephilim." Castiel said in that low, gravelly voice of his. For once the seriousness of his voice suited the conversation. Sam couldn't believe what he was saying. A nephilim? This scrawny FBI agent in front of them was a _nephilim_?

"A nephilim?" Sam couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

Castiel nodded. "Yes. The offspring of the sons of God and the daughters of Men. Half angel, half human, and immensely more powerful than either. We are very lucky you found and subdued him. You were even more lucky that you were not destroyed. Nephilim were, unstable, and very powerful. I'm not sure if even the holy oil you've laid down will be enough to hold him."

"Well that's just great." Dean said. He groaned and glared at the angel. "Way to be reassuring, man."

"You wish me to lie?" Castiel asked, confusion on his face.

"No. Just…" Dean sighed deeply. "How is it that you guys didn't know about him before this?"

"His powers. They keep him hidden. Until I arrived, I couldn't even sense him."

"So, what do we do now?" Sam asked. They had to figure out something before Spencer woke up. They needed to be prepared. Apparently, he was powerful. Far more powerful than anything else they'd gone up against. They needed to be ready and prepared.

He'd hoped that Castiel might have a suggestion for some sort of plan. Really, he should've remembered just who it was they were dealing with here and how the angels viewed not only the world, but how history said they viewed nephilim. It stunned Sam completely when Castiel looked at the unconscious man—nephilim—and simply stated "We kill him."

"What?" Sam and Dean exclaimed at the same time.

Castiel didn't even flinch at their shouts. "The nephilim were destroyed for a reason. They became dangerous—corrupt. They coveted angels for what they did not have and that envy became their downfall."

"What they didn't have?" Dean asked.

"Nephilim are only part angel. That means that, while their powers are strong, there are some things they are inherently missing. They do not grow wings such as we do, nor do they have the ability to exist outside their vessel. Their soul ties them to it. They sought the freedom of Heaven and envied us for having it. That envy corrupted them until our Father ordered their destruction."

He couldn't believe it. Just because of what the nephilim of the past had done, they were going to condemn this guy to death? "We're not just gonna kill some guy because you think he _might_ be dangerous!" Sam said furiously. "He hasn't even done anything wrong. Everything around here has all been good things happening. I'm not going to kill someone because they did a bunch of good."

Temper and grace both snapped into Castiel's eyes in a display of threat and power. "You cannot even begin to understand what you have here. He would be dangerous on his own, in any other time. With Lucifer risen? What happens if he finds this boy and takes him? Lucifer would twist him to his purposes and, with him at his side, he could destroy the earth without ever even needing to take another vessel."

That had Dean turning to stare down at the kid on the ground. "You're trying to tell me that kid has more power than freaking _Lucifer_?" The way he said it showed just how incredulous he found that.

"Our graces are made stronger by souls." Castiel explained to them, with the air of someone who was frustrated with having to explain what he found to be obvious. "It's part of why we don't want Michael or Lucifer in their true vessels. Not only are your bodies made to house them, your souls are made for it as well. They would draw power from you. This thing here, it has both grace and soul, one constantly feeding the other, the two so in tune there is no separation. The kind of power that grants him is beyond your comprehension. The devastation he could cause, not just on earth but in Heaven, is immense. We cannot allow that to happen."

"We're the good guys." Sam felt compelled to remind them. "We, we don't just kill people without real reason!"

"A year ago, you would have done whatever it took to win this war." Castiel said to him. The words were meant to be a slap and Sam had to fight not to reel back from them. He held his ground and met Castiel's gaze with all the firmness he could muster up. "Things change." He told him.

Their little standoff was cut short by Dean slipping to stand between the two of them with his hands held out in either direction. "All right, boys, break it up." He firmly told them. Then he turned to look at Castiel, dropping his hands back down. "Sam's right, Cas. This kid hasn't done anything that's actually bad. Maybe the nephilim in the past were bad or corrupt, but this kid hasn't shown anything like that. He didn't look angry when we confronted him. He looked _terrified_."

It was true. Spencer hadn't looked angry at all. And when he'd gone outside with them and first confronted them about why they were there, he'd seemed honestly worried and curious about what they might be hunting. Like he really hadn't known. Finding out that the thing they were hunting was _him_ had scared him. "If he is a nephilim…" Sam said slowly, tilting his head to look over at the kid. "I think, I think he might be kind of new to it. I don't think he knew what he was doing."

"Nephilim have their powers from the moment they are born." Castiel informed them.

"I don't know, Cas. I think Sam's right. This, it doesn't feel like something planned. All these things feel random." Dean said. "At the least, if he's not new then he's not in control. I don't think any of these things were done on purpose."

Their conversation was cut off when a low groan filled the air. Three sets of eyes locked on the suddenly shifting man on the floor. Their guest was awake.

Dean hesitated only briefly before pulling his lighter from his pocket. He flicked it on and squatted down to ignite the circle.

It was time to get some answers.


	4. Am I Evil? Part 3

The world felt hazy as Spencer slowly came back to consciousness. He didn't come back with a gasp and a jerk as he had before. How sad was it that he recognized the pain that came from a blow to the head and knew that he'd been knocked out even before he was conscious enough to remember _why_. Experience and training had him discreetly flexing his wrists and ankles to test for any sort of binding. He found none. There was a strange crackling sound nearby, though. When he let his eyes open to slits, he found out why.

Fire.

He was surrounded by _fire_!

Spencer fought back the instinctive panic. What had happened here? How the hell had he ended up here? His brain was slowly waking up and the earlier events were seeping back in. The last thing he remembered was Dean Winchester's hand in his hair, slamming his forehead into the trunk of their car, and then the whole world had exploded in pain before turning dark.

He groaned against as his head reminded him of that pain. His newfound sense of empathy seemed to be as frazzled as his head and he only felt glimpses of emotions. Fear, worry, anger, disgust, determination, curiosity. All of it was mixing and jumbling together in a way that made his aching head throb even more. Spencer had been slowly practicing how to try and shield himself. What pathetic shields he'd managed so far he grabbed hold of now and yanked tightly into place.

Only when he felt the emotions around him dull down to something he could ignore did he finally dare to open his eyes the rest of the way and actually try to move. What he found waiting for him was almost enough to make him wish he was still unconscious.

He'd been moved while he was knocked out. Instead of the parking lot outside of Bennington, he was now in what looked to be a huge, empty warehouse. There was a devil's trap on the ground underneath him, as well as other protective sigils, and a circle of fire around all of that. Though fire had never really been a fear of his before, he found himself drawing back from it now, trying to keep himself in the very center of the circle so there was no chance of it touching him. The light that Spencer had always carried inside of him seemed to recoil from that fire as well. It pulled in tight and small inside of him in a way he hadn't ever felt it do before.

When he looked up beyond the fire, he got another shock.

The Winchester brothers were standing on the other side of the fire, but that wasn't what had shocked Spencer. What stunned him, what had him sucking in a breath and staring with wide eyes, was the man with them. A tall, slender man with bright blue eyes, jet black hair, and the biggest set of wings Spencer had ever seen rising up from his back. _Wings_! Spencer's heart thudded in his chest and he swore his whole body went still. The wings were huge and black as the night sky. As they lifted up high and wide in a display that reminded Spencer forcibly of an animal displaying dominance, he swore he caught flashes of silver in the feathers, like stars peeking through the sky.

Dean stepped forward and a cry tried to rise up in Spencer's throat when he saw the older Winchester was about to step into part of the wing. Instead of hitting it, though, he went _through it_. Jesus! Couldn't they see them? Was he…was he seeing things now? Things that weren't there? Or was this like the demons that he saw? No one else seemed to be able to see the true forms inside of the bodies they were possessing. Was that something like this? Spencer's brain almost stalled when it came to him what that could mean. If he saw the true form inside of someone, that would mean that what he saw here was a being possessing a person, and the only thing that came to mind….no. _No_.

His little silent panic attack might've gone on for a while if Dean hadn't finally broken the silence had that had fallen around them. "We've got a few questions for you, Doc."

Spencer had to work to build up enough spit to wet his dry mouth before he could speak. "Do you often put people in a flaming circle before questioning them?" For all the bravado in his words, he knew his voice gave away his fear, and he couldn't quite bring himself to take his eyes off the winged man standing between the Winchesters.

"Only the angelic ones." Dean shot back.

Angelic ones? Spencer knew his eyes had gone wide and he couldn't quite bring himself to care enough to stop it. All of his training was failing him at that moment. His eyes drifted over the other man's wings again. Angels. _Angels are real._ He couldn't…no…it didn't seem possible. Angels couldn't be real! _Why not_? His brain countered. _Demons are real. Why can't angels be real, too?_

Sam's voice was a lot gentler than his brothers when he interrupted Spencer's thoughts. "You, didn't know about angels?" He seemed almost hesitant in his question.

A shudder ran down Spencer's body when the man—angel, he has to be an angel—moved just slightly and his wings somehow became even more threatening. How the hell were _wings_ threatening? He didn't understand it, yet he couldn't deny what he felt or the way his light shivered inside of him at the display the angel was putting on. "Yesterday, I would've said they weren't real. I'm a man of science; that doesn't exactly go hand in hand with faith. Now…"

"So you're telling us you have no idea what you are, then?" Dean asked him. He looked skeptical, but not combative, which was a surprise. Judging by the reputation the man had, Spencer had expected more growling, more anger. More 'ready to kill'. Supernatural things didn't exactly survive when they went up against the Winchesters. But he wasn't angry sounding. He was, questioning. Curious.

"I'm me." Spencer answered him. "I'm not anything special. Just, just a regular kid with a bit telekinesis. What is it people call it? A, a 'spoon-bender'."

"Lies. I can see the grace inside of you." The angel spoke in a voice that was like a rockslide in its low rumble. "You are a nephilim, the child of a human and an angel, and as such you are not to be trusted."

Sam, surprisingly, winced a little, and Dean actually caught hold of this angel's arm and tried to tug him back, failing miserably. "Dude, Cas, tone it down. Let us handle this."

The angel, this 'Cas', actually seemed to subside a little at Dean's request. That said a lot about the older Winchester if all it took was a single sentence for him to get an _angel_ to back down. What kind of person was able to tell an angel what to do? Those thoughts didn't exactly help to settle Spencer's nerves. He felt shaky and jittery and utterly terrified. The only time he could remember feeling terror anywhere close to this was when a gun had been pointed at his head while a madman had played Russian Roulette in an effort to convince Spencer to pick a member of his team to die.

Spencer shoved that memory down as far as he could make it go. He'd managed to keep calm then, to think clearly, because the lives of his team had depended on it. Now, it was only him, only his life. There was no chance of someone stumbling in to save him. No camera with his team watching for him to feed clues to. There was only him, this ring of fire, two hunters and one angel. This was his worst fear coming true here. He was trapped by hunters that knew he was a supernatural _something_. He just hadn't expected them to have a name for him. If Spencer wanted to make it out of this alive he was going to have to keep his wit about him. Fears and insane life altering revelations were going to have to wait until he had the freedom and luxury to think about them properly. Somehow he managed to make his voice calm, though he couldn't stop the slight tremble that slipped through. "I'm not…there's no way I am what you think I am! I'm not some part angel child. My parents are both human."

"We know you have powers." Dean said firmly. A hint of a scowl twisted his features. "You threw Sammy over the car!"

"I didn't mean to!" Spencer blurted out. His hands curled into fists at his side and he drew in a deep breath. _Calm. Control!_ "Your information has to be wrong. I think I'd know if I was an angel. For starters, I don't have wings…"

"Nephilim do not possess wings." Cas interrupted.

Interesting, and something to think about—later. "I told you, I've only ever had telekinesis! If I were what you think I am, some insanely power being, would I have a bit more than that?" He very deliberately didn't mention the powers that had been manifesting since he'd quit the Dilaudid. Since before then, really. Since that night in Georgia when he'd died and been born again. The drugs had just made him not really think about it. And each time he'd started to think again, he'd gotten high all over again and pushed those thoughts and fears a little further back.

There was no running from them now. Not with his brain pushing them at him. And not when he had Sam and Dean Winchester here in front of him throwing it all right back in his face.

"I think you know what we're talking about." Sam said slowly. He took a step forward, away from his friends and closer to the fire. His eyes were fixed right on Spencer's face and they were open and earnest in a way few people were. Even though Spencer recognized the rough technique that Sam was employing here, talking down a stressed out Unsub or traumatized victim, he found it working. It was hard to keep tense when Sam smiled at him and the warmth of his emotions were bleeding over to Spencer and spelling out _calm_ and _safety_ and _openness_ , giving his words a weight they might not have otherwise held. "I believe you that you've only ever had telekinesis, but I think something happened. Something changed recently, didn't it? And you've had other things happening. Strange things. The little miracles, they weren't centered around Bennington, were they? They were centered around _you_."

"I didn't do anything." Spencer said. It sounded far too much like a plea for his comfort.

"Maybe not intentionally." Sam agreed. He tilted his head, watching Spencer's face carefully. "You're scared. These powers, they scare you. They're new and you had no idea where they came from, did you?"

"Is that possible, Cas?" Dean asked, turning to look at the angel.

For a moment Cas just studied Spencer in a way that made the young genius feel like he was a bug under a microscope. He looked at Spencer like he was seeing more than just his outside. Like he was staring down into him. "It is possible." He finally said, slowly. "If the angel that fathered him bound him when he was born, it is plausible that his powers could've been locked down until triggered by something."

Triggered…. "Like dying?" Spencer asked. His question brought all three sets of eyes back to him, but he looked at Cas. "I, died, recently. I was resuscitated in enough time to bring me back, but I was clinically dead for a few minutes."

The angel's wings lowered a little out of their threatening posture and became something a bit more controlled, almost contemplative. "That would do it. In the moment of death the binding would be no longer necessary. Your soul and grace would've tried to move on, but being brought back in enough time they would still be in your body only without the binding there. It is…possible." Then his expression hardened once more. "It changes nothing. The point still remains that nephilim are dangerous and forbidden. The fact that you are untrained only makes you more of a danger. You have immense power and no control. The miracles you caused here are on a small scale, with your powers just coming to life. What could be caused as you gain control—we cannot risk that. We cannot risk Lucifer getting control of that."

" _Lucifer_?" Spencer almost squeaked as he said it. Lucifer was real? Real…and apparently would want control of Spencer? Of his power? The terror that Spencer had been feeling grew tenfold.

Again, it was Sam who was the calm one. "He doesn't have to go bad, Cas." He told the angel in a voice that suggested he'd made this argument before. "He's a grown adult, one capable of making an informed choice. Why can't he choose good?"

Cas leaned in and his wings were lifting high again, one of them curling in towards Sam in a way that would've had Spencer trying to yank the man back if he could. When the angel got close, he almost snarled out " _You didn't_."

The force of his words was like a blow. Sam staggered back from them like he'd been slapped and Dean winced. It was an awkward moment in the making with undertones that Spencer knew he had no hope of beginning to understand. There was a history here, a huge one, and he was pretty sure it probably had something to do with the whole Lucifer thing that they were mentioning. It was something that Spencer knew was probably important and something he should definitely be paying attention to. However, it was getting harder and harder to keep his fear bottled up. His body kept wanting to curl inwards in a futile attempt to get away from the fire around him. Later, he was going to have to examine when exactly he'd developed such a fear of fire. So much of one that even the idea of going near those flames was enough to make his body tremble and his light pulse erratically.

"Listen," Spencer called out, drawing their attention away from each other and back over to him. "I think we've safely established that I have no wings and therefore, no capability to fly away from you, and I assume that anything I do power wise your a-angel," he couldn't help stumbling a little over that word, "would be able to stop. So, is there any way that we might continue this conversation without the fire? I find it rather hard to focus on much else beyond the potential to burn."

It looked like Cas was going to lodge some sort of protest. But, much to Spencer's surprise, it was Dean who moved forward to put it out. When he went to step on it, the angel's wings did a little twitch like they wanted to reach out and stop him, and then the fire slowly went down around Spencer. The two hunters looked to Cas, who said nothing by way of explanation.

A good chunk of the tension inside of Spencer faded away now that the fire was no longer a threat. He wanted to move out of the protective circle and away from the circle where the fire had been but he had a feeling that'd be pushing his luck. This was a moment where he should take what he could get. "Thank you." He told them earnestly.

"Don't think this means we're done." Dean warned him.

Spencer held his hands up in a gesture of peace. It was almost amusing how they all reacted to just that simple movement. Dean and Sam both leaned back a little and Cas straightened up even more like he was prepared to protect these boys no matter what Spencer did. They were treating him like he was a volatile Unsub. Realizing it, Spencer carefully and slowly lowered his hands back down. "I'm not going to try anything. I don't want any trouble."

"Yeah, well trouble's gonna find you whether you like it or not." Dean said.

Well that wasn't ominous sounding at all. "What are you talking about?" The way he said it wasn't like it was a threat. Spencer didn't feel as if Dean were threatening him. But there _was_ some sort of underlying danger to the comment that had him tensing once more.

"Short version?" Dean hooked his thumbs in his pockets and his lips quirked up in a mocking half-smirk. "I went to Hell, Sammy banged a demon, Lucifer got set free and the apocalypse is coming. Angels take vessels like demons do, only they have to have permission. Sammy and I, we're the true vessels of the two biggest douchebags of all and they want to ride our asses and have a major showdown that's gonna destroy the planet. We're trying to stop it." His smirk turned into a full-fledged grin, one that Spencer imagined got him what he wanted quite often. "Wanna join?"

Holy shit. The uncharacteristic curse floated through Spencer's mind, the only thing he could seem to think for a moment. His brain just sort of stalled and he stared, wide-eyed. "I can't even…I don't even know where to begin to question all of that." How was he supposed to believe this? Knowing about the supernatural and about hunting was one thing. Believing that angels were real and the apocalypse was upon them…that was something else entirely!

Sam scowled at his brother. "Think maybe you could've done that a little gentler?" He asked. Dean shrugged one shoulder, a 'what're you gonna do about it' look on his face, and the younger Winchester sighed and shook his head before he turned to look at Spencer. In contrast to his brother's straightforward bluntness, Sam seemed to go for the softer route, his voice gentle as he spoke to Spencer. "Look, I know this is a lot to take in. Not just this whole apocalypse bit, but all this about yourself too. But, Spencer—this isn't something you're going to be able to just walk away from. You're powerful. More powerful than...pretty much anything we've ever seen. That makes you, vulnerable." Sam hesitated and then sighed. He looked honestly regretful. "It won't be long before someone other than us notices the kinds of things happening around you. Cas is right on one thing—power like this can't fall into Lucifer's hands. You can't begin to imagine the things he'd do to you to break you. I'm sorry, I wish I didn't have to tell you this, I really do. I know what it's like to be forced into something. But right now, coming with us is the only safe choice I can see."

Wait a second…Dean's offer had been serious? They wanted him to _join_ them? He couldn't! He had a job, a life, and friends. He couldn't just leave that behind. At almost the same time his brain told him _Can you really walk away from this? From the apocalypse? If there's a chance that you going with them could save the world, are you really going to say no? Are you that selfish?_

"My mom." A breath shuddered out of Spencer and he closed his eyes against the wave of pain. His mom was as protected as he could make her. He'd made sure of that over the years. But the idea of leaving her here where angels and maybe even other hunters might come looking—it terrified him.

"No one but us made the connection to you. They have no reason to come after her." Sam said soothingly.

"You want to keep her safe, this is your best bet." Dean said. "But, kid, look...once you're in this fight...You're in it till the end, win or lose."

"I need to think about this." This was too much to take in at once. Spencer always worked best under pressure and he had a mind that processed things so much faster than those around him, yet even his genius skills were having a hard time taking all of this in. It was so much, _too much_ , and he couldn't, he just couldn't stand here and think clearly. Not with all this echoing around him, standing in what had moments ago been a fiery prison, with an angel still watching him threateningly from the sidelines. He needed to get out of here and go somewhere, _alone,_ so he could just think for five minutes.

It looked like the older Winchester was going to protest, and the angel definitely wanted to, but Sam caught his brother's eye and they carried on almost an entire conversation in eye movements, head tilts, shoulder shrugs, and facial expressions. It was frankly impressive. Finally, Dean seemed to give in, sighing and nodding. "We'll need to hide him." He tacked on.

"Cas said his powers hide him." Sam said.

"Yeah, well, if he's not in control, let's not risk it. Cas, can you put that junk on his ribs that you put on ours?"

"Absolutely." Cas said. Immediately he moved towards Spencer and the young genius responded instinctively, stumbling back a few quick steps. He didn't want Cas coming close to him. He just knew that if he let the angel close to him, he could do anything and there would be no way Spencer could get away from him. There was this small part of him that scared him because it almost seemed like the light inside of him wanted to lean in _closer_ towards Cas, not away from him, and he had no idea why he would want to do that.

It was enough to make Cas stop and look at him curiously. His wings weren't in that threatening pose anymore and there was nothing angry on his face. He looked more like…like someone inspecting a particularly interesting creature, waiting to see if it was going to do something interesting. It wasn't condescending or anything. Just, curious. "I am not going to hurt you."

"Seeing as how you rather recently were advocating killing me, you'll have to forgive me if I don't quite believe that." Spencer said.

That drew a snort from Dean and a smothered sort of smile from Sam.

Spencer kept his eyes locked on the angel; or, more accurately, on his wings. They seemed to be a better indicator of what he was feeling than anything else. Which was so beyond strange Spencer didn't even know where to start with that thought.

"I am not going to hurt you." Cas repeated. "There are protective sigils I can inscribe onto your ribs that will keep you hidden from the sight of angels. It will help to add a layer of protection to that which you already naturally possess."

Something reached out from Cas as he spoke, a little tendril of light that had, up until now, been rather carefully hidden. But it was like some sort of shield fell away now and Spencer could see the light inside of the human skin, one that was so much like his own. A bit of that light was reaching for him and the light that Spencer had always carried inside of him responded to it by reaching out in return. Breath shuddered out of him and his eyes went wide. The distance between them seemed to vanish; Cas was suddenly right there, right in front of him, and his light was brushing against Spencer's in a touch that screamed out _home_ and _peace_ and the kind of safety and sense of family that he'd been aching for his entire life.

Fingers brushed against Spencer's temple and the pain of the sigils being carved onto his ribs was nothing in comparison to the joy he felt as that light curled itself around his.

Then, suddenly, that light clenched down tight, going from soft and warm to hard in the blink of an eye. Spencer had no chance to draw back from it. It tightened around him and Spencer couldn't stop as the dark surrounded him once more and he was shoved down into it.

* * *

All of it seemed to happen so fast. One moment Castiel was reaching out to Spencer and the young genius was looking at him with something that Sam thought might be awe on his face. Then horror lit up Spencer's face before his eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped down into Castiel's arms.

A bad feeling curled in Sam's stomach. Beside him, Dean lurched forward, his own expression surprised. "Cas! What the hell happened?"

"He's fine." Castiel said firmly. He gathered Spencer up in his arms like the kid was a rag doll. "He's just unconscious."

"You knocked him out?" Sam said slowly. There was a horror he couldn't quite keep out of his voice. Castiel had gone over there to help ward Spencer and he'd…knocked him out? There were so many things that were wrong with that.

The way Castiel was looking at him said clearly that he didn't understand why Sam was stating the obvious. Dean saved an argument from breaking out between the two by demanding "I thought you were just gonna scribble on his ribs, not knock the kid unconscious!"

"He has no control over his powers. Would you prefer he rode with you and left a trail for everything supernatural on the planet to follow? Or would you have preferred he choose not to allow us to help and instead ran so that we could not find him? If you are insistent on keeping him alive, he needs to be contained until we find a way to control him."

The fact that he said 'control him' and not 'teach him control' sent shivers down Sam's spine.

"I will take him to Bobby Singer's home." Castiel said, not even seeming to notice the stunned way they were looking at him. "The panic room should have sufficient wards to hold him until he learns control." With no more warning than that, Castiel and the kid were gone.

Sam stared where the angel had been for a long moment before he finally managed to find his voice. Even then, the only thing he could say was "What the hell?"

"I don't even know." Dean sounded frustrated and tired and something else that Sam couldn't put a name to. "I think he's just trying to help."

"He tricked him and knocked him unconscious!" Sam shot back. "We just got that kid to trust us just a little bit and Cas went and pulled something like that. When he wakes up, he's not gonna trust a word we have to say to him."

Dean couldn't even deny it. He grimaced, knowing the truth behind it. "I know, Sam. But what do you expect me to do? I don't control Cas!"

Glaring, Sam pointed a finger at his brother. "He better be alive when we get there, Dean." That said, he turned around and marched away. They needed to get out of here and get to Bobby's house, now. It'd take them a little over a half a day's drive if Dean sped—which he would. There was no telling what might happen in the meantime.

They were just climbing into the car when Dean's phone went off. Even from the passenger's seat, Sam clearly heard Bobby's voice when Dean answered the phone, loudly demanding " _Someone tell me why the hell Feathers just dumped a kid in my panic room!_ "

"Well, at least we know he's still alive." Sam grumbled.


	5. Am I Evil? Part 4

Bobby hadn't cooled down at all by the time they arrived at his place. If anything, he was even more pissed off than he'd been when he called. He met them at the front door with a scowl and furious demand of "What the hell took you so long!"

"Dean broke every speed limit there was, Bobby…" Sam tried to explain, only to get cut off by Bobby furiously snapping "Not fast enough!"

"Bobby, man, take it easy." Dean said.

Bobby transferred his scowl from Sam to Dean. "Don't you tell me to take it easy, boy. You aint the one that's been trapped here listening to a kid hollering from your basement!" When they winced, he snorted at them. "Yeah. Kid woke up about a few hours after Feathers left. An let me tell you, he aint happy."

 _Jesus_. Sam could only imagine. He knew the terrifying sensation of waking up somewhere that you don't know, unable to get free. How much worse was it to be brought there by people who you had started to think that maybe you could trust? Spencer didn't even have the benefit of really knowing them and knowing that they had his best interests at heart here. All he would know was that he'd trusted them and they'd betrayed him. What made it worse was knowing that they couldn't really let him out yet, either. Sam and Dean had talked about it on the way here—argued, shouting at the top of their lungs sometimes—and they'd come to the conclusion that Castiel was right about the fact that they couldn't have anything that drew the attention of angels or anything else. Until they figured out a way to help Spencer control his powers, he was going to have to stay where he and everyone else were safe. Something told Sam that Bobby wasn't going to be any happier about it than he was.

He was right.

They sat in Bobby's living room as Dean told him that he was basically going to be playing jailhouse for just a little bit longer. Sam hadn't thought it was possible for Bobby to look any more pissed off than he already had, but he was proven wrong. "You want to _keep him in there_?" Bobby demanded.

"Just for a little while!" Dean said quickly. "Just until we can figure out how to train up his powers or keep them under control somehow."

"I'm not keeping some kid locked up just because he had the misfortune of having an angel daddy!"

"It is in the best interests of all, the nephilim included." Another voice chimed in. No one had heard Castiel's arrival but they all turned to look at him now. He didn't seem the least bit disturbed by the open temper in the room. Maybe he'd just gotten used to things being that way here. Sam didn't let himself think about how depressing that thought was.

Now that Castiel was in the room, Bobby was free to turn his ire on him. "I fail to see how trickin' a kid and locking him in my panic room is in his best interests!"

"Would you rather Lucifer tracked his movements and came to retrieve him for his own means?" Castiel asked.

"Of course not, Cas." Dean said quickly.

"Then this is the route we must take. I'm currently looking into a way to safely bind his powers, even temporarily. Might I suggest you turn your research towards the same?"

There were times where Sam forgot just how 'other' Castiel was. Logically, he knew their friend was an angel. That wasn't something that a person forgot. And he'd seen as Castiel slowly tried to figure out humanity. But the fact that he wasn't actually human came through so much clearer in moments like this. To Castiel, this was a simple situation with a simple solution. He didn't stop to think about it from a human perspective. He didn't stop to think how they were locking a man away, keeping him prisoner, and how that might make Spencer feel. He didn't think about how his earlier actions had destroyed whatever trust they had building, or how impossible that trust might be to earn back.

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. This whole situation was a mess. _I guess it's time I try and help clean it up a little._ "I'll go down and talk to him."

He was surprised when Dean immediately shook his head. "No, I will." He saw the look Sam was giving him and his lips quirked up into a mirthless smile. "Kid's gonna be plenty pissed off. Let him take it out on me now. Then later you can go in and do that whole touchy-feely girly crap you do that always gets people to talk to you."

Huh. Sam's eyebrows went up in a clear look of surprise. "Dean, that's almost…nice." He made sure to say it with enough skepticism to imply just how strange he found it. He got the desired result. Dean scowled at him and told him to "Shut up" before he turned and took off towards the panic room.

* * *

Spencer had never felt so utterly afraid and absolutely furious at the same time.

He'd woken up _hours_ ago alone inside of this cold prison and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of anyone since then. None of his shouts had brought anyone down to him. He was alone, trapped inside of this insane room that was covered in so many protective sigils and warding sigils, and there was no way out. No windows to crawl out of, and definitely no way to open the huge, thick door. All he had were a few bookshelves, a disgusting looking cot in the middle of the room, and a dusty desk. Nothing that could help him escape. He was trapped here with no way out.

But worse than all of that, worse than being trapped here or being alone…

His light was gone.

Never once in all of Spencer's years had the light inside of him ever been _gone_. It'd always been a part of him. Sometimes it felt like more of a part of him than anything else. He'd felt it as this living ball of light that sat in his chest and flowed through his veins. Since he'd died in Georgia—if he could believe anything the Winchesters and their angel had said, that would've been the catalyst removing the 'binding' over his light, or grace as they'd called it—his light seemed to have grown. It didn't just sit in his chest anymore. It filled him and brought with it all these powers that had terrified Spencer. Sure, he'd always known that it was the source of his powers, that his telekinesis stemmed from that light, but it was so much more than that. It was _him_. Spencer had no idea how to explain it better than that. All the languages he knew, all the words he possessed, and he could never think of a better way to describe that light than as simply _him_. The essence of himself. And now it was gone.

It felt like someone had scraped out his soul with a jagged knife and left him with this raw emptiness where _everything_ had used to be. Spencer would take torture over this feeling. He'd take anything if it meant he could have that part of himself back. It hurt! It hurt so much more than anything he'd ever known.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to bang on that door and demand they come down here and get him the hell out of here. He wanted _free_! But no one came, and Spencer knew he couldn't afford the luxury of a freak out. Not now. Not when he had no idea what they wanted with him.

How much of what they'd said had been truth and how much was lies? The apocalypse—that, at least, he had been able to sense was true. He'd felt their emotions when they spoke about it. That was true. And it made sense that they wouldn't lie about telling him he was a nephilim. There was no point in lying about that. It would serve no purpose to talk about how powerful he was if he wasn't really. So, those were truth. But they'd lied about wanting to help him. They'd lied about not hurting him.

Did they…did they think he was a threat? Spencer knew the history supernatural things had with the Winchesters. If one was supernatural and crossed their paths, they didn't tend to survive. Were they, going to kill him? But why keep him alive? _For information_. It was the only thing that made sense. Not that he knew any information. There was no other reason he could think of that they'd keep him alive instead of killing him.

Unless, maybe they planned on simply _holding_ him. Keeping him prisoner so that he couldn't go to Lucifer. Maybe they'd found some middle ground between the Winchesters wanting to trust him and their angel wanting to kill him. This could be some sort of strange compromise between them. Simply keep Spencer locked up in this iron prison. Had they—oh, God, had they done something to yank away his light? Was it…gone? Really, truly gone?

It took almost a half an hour for Spencer to get his breathing back under control and stop the panic attack that tried to take over.

He was only barely in control again when he heard noise from upstairs. Not a lot, just enough to tell him that there were people up there. He didn't shout to them, though. What would be the point?

Then he heard the sound of footsteps and they sounded like they were getting closer. Spencer straightened up from the wall and stared at the door and listened carefully. Yes, they were. They were coming closer. Someone was finally coming. Very deliberately he straightened out his body and locked down everything he could.

They would get no trust from him. He'd played nice and this was what it'd earned him. Now, he wasn't going to play nice and friendly anymore. Spencer drew in a shaky breath and let it back out slowly as he watched the door to his prison. He wasn't going to lay here and cower before them. He'd done that far too much in life. This time, he wouldn't let them see how afraid he was. He wouldn't let them see how broken he felt with this gaping emptiness inside of him where his light had used to be. _Let them think it's still there,_ a voice in his head told him, sounding suspiciously like Derek. _If they don't know that one of their wards has taken your light, don't clue them in. Better to let them think you're as powerful as they were preaching about earlier. It might make them hesitant on trying anything. Just keep calm and watch. Your opportunity to escape will come._

He wasn't all that surprised when the door finally opened and it was Dean who came in. Spencer stayed on the far side of the room and didn't bother trying to rush out of here. Just because the door was open didn't mean that he could escape. Dean would stop him. Spencer knew he didn't stand a chance against the hunter in physical skills. He wasn't Derek; he couldn't hide until the door opened and ambush him to get free. Not to mention there was no telling who they had upstairs.

Dean took one look at him and Spencer could see the slight wince. It was his first clue how bad he must look. He hadn't really thought about it. "Hey." Dean said lowly. He tried for a grin and failed miserably at it. "So I, uh, I imagine you're pretty pissed off right now."

 _Understatement_ , Spencer thought. He kept his mouth shut, though.

"Listen, I know this looks bad, really I do, and I get that you're pissed. I don't blame you."

Spencer had never been what one would call snarky. His mouth could run away with him, yes, but he'd been bullied enough in childhood to learn how to keep his mouth shut in certain situations. It hadn't been until the Dilaudid, until the come downs and the withdrawal, that he'd discovered that mouthier side of himself once more. That side showed itself now. Before he could stop himself, he dryly said "I'm so glad to know I have your approval."

Again, just a small flinch, only barely noticeable around Dean's eyes. "Believe it or not, we're trying to help you here. All that stuff we told you back there, it's all true. We didn't lie to you. But you gotta realize, until we figure out a way to help make sure you've got your powers under control, we gotta make sure you're hidden. This room's the best place for that. Bobby has this room warded better than anything I've ever seen."

"Forgive me if I'm not impressed." Spencer said. Did Dean think he was going to believe him now? That he was going to buy this story? "So, that's your plan? You're going to leave me locked in this room until such time that your angel finds a way to control me?"

"A way to help you find control." Dean corrected.

A low scoff slid free. Like he was going to believe that. These guys wanted to control him just as much as they claimed Lucifer would.

"We're not the bad guys here, doc." Dean said, his voice just a bit softer than before. It was strange to hear after his earlier gruffness. "We're trying to help."

"Can I leave this room?" Spencer asked.

"No."

Spencer shook his head and turned away. "Then don't delude yourself into thinking I'm anything other than a prisoner here."

He heard a soft sigh behind him and then Dean said "I'm sorry, kid."

Let him be sorry. It didn't change things. It didn't get Spencer free of here.

He didn't acknowledge Dean's words at all. Instead, he stared at the wall and waited silently until he heard the sounds of the older Winchester leaving. The door shut behind him with a clang that made Spencer flinch. Then, the sound of the lock clicking into place. Spencer's eyes closed on a wave of grief. He was trapped here. Trapped, with no way out, by people who were trying to claim they were only doing what was 'best'.

There was no one around to see the single tear that slipped free.

* * *

The next time someone came to see him was hours later. Spencer looked up from where he sat at the desk, a book in hand, and watched as Sam came in bearing a tray of food. For an hour now the young genius had been pretending to read the book he held. Mostly, he'd sat here at the desk with his head propped up on one hand and his fingers rubbing lightly at his temple to try and take away the weird ache in his head. It was a step up from what he really wanted to do, which was curl up on that bed and rub at the even bigger ache in his chest where that empty feeling still sat.

Sam smiled at him as he came in, making him look kind of like this big, sheepish puppy. It was probably a look that had endeared him to a lot of people. Spencer watched him dispassionately as the hunter brought the tray of food over to the desk he sat at. "Hey. I brought you a little something to eat. I figured you might be getting hungry."

Out of anyone that could've come down, Sam was probably his best bet on getting information. Spencer knew there was a sharp mind in there, he'd seen it in their interactions, but he'd also seen and _felt_ the soft heart that lived inside him. Then again, maybe that had been a trick, just like everything else. He was here, wasn't he? Spencer folded the book in his lap and looked up at Sam, refusing to cower even if the man's towering presence beside him had him wanting to back away. "Has your angel found a way to leash me, yet?" The words were brittle and bitter and only barely covered up Spencer's fear.

Unlike his brother, who hid his discomfort, Sam's wince was right out there for Spencer to see. "We don't want to leash you, Dr. Reid." Sighing out a breath, the younger Winchester took a few steps back and then sank down to sit on the edge of the cot. "We really are trying to help, even if it doesn't seem like it. Castiel…he went about it the wrong way. He doesn't think about things quite like humans do. To him, you needed to be somewhere that you couldn't be sensed, somewhere that we'd all be safe, and he wasn't sure you'd agree so it was just logical to bring you right here. He doesn't think about how that feels for a person. He's better than he used to be, but he's still learning about humanity. He's too used to thinking like a soldier."

Spencer picked absently at the burger in front of him. He didn't want to listen to the earnest tone in Sam's voice. He didn't want to see the way he looked at him, so open and honest and pleading. They had brought him here. They'd _trapped_ him here. "He may have brought me here, but you're the ones keeping me here."

"Just until we can find a way to help get your powers under control so you can be safe."

"Safe from what?" Spencer asked, finally looking up. Part of his mind was telling him how stupid it was to antagonize his kidnappers and how he needed to keep his calm and treat this like any other case. The other part of him, the part that ached and throbbed and _screamed_ with every breath, that part just didn't care. "Safe from being kidnapped by someone who wants to find a way to control my supposed immense power and use it to win some war?" He wasn't just talking about Lucifer here and the both of them knew it.

This time Sam's wince was a little stronger. "That's not what we're trying to do here, Dr. Reid."

"Isn't it?" Spencer raised an eyebrow and dared him to contradict. When he didn't, Spencer nodded, a silent 'that's what I thought', and then he turned his attention back to his food. Picking the burger up and holding it in the napkin, he gathered up the tray and held it out to Sam. "Here. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble for leaving me with something that might be misconstrued as a weapon of some sort."

It was a clear dismissal. Sam took the tray and gave him one last, sad look before he left him there.

The door locking seemed to echo louder than before.

* * *

Sleep finally overcame Spencer whether he liked it or not. He woke up with his head still resting on his arms on the desk and his body feeling strangely heavy and hollow. There was a thick, dry taste in his mouth and a throbbing ache in his head that only grew worse when he tried to move. His eyelids felt like they'd been glued together. What was going on here?

Spencer tried to push himself up to his feet. But he barely made it halfway up before dizziness assaulted him and he had to slap his palms down on the desktop to keep himself from falling back down. The gaping emptiness inside of him seemed to taunt him as he stood there and tried to gather his bearings. What the hell was wrong with him? Something….something wasn't right here. Something was very, very wrong. He felt sore and empty, his head was throbbing and yet it also felt like it'd been stuffed with cotton. It made it hard to think, like dragging your feet through molasses. Or quicksand. Every thought he had just kept getting sucked back under. The last time he'd felt this bad, he'd…

 _No_. Horror filled Spencer. It pushed back some of the fog and cleared his head a little. Just enough for him to turn his stare to the empty napkin and the paper cup that were the only remnants of his earlier meal. No, they couldn't have. Had they? He didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to believe how completely and utterly stupid he was and just how much trouble he was really in. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The only time he'd ever felt like this, had been when he was drugged.

This wasn't like the Dilaudid. At least, not like it'd been at the end there, when he'd been doing it on his own. This was like the cabin. Only, without the hallucinations. This was what he'd felt like when he would wake up after Tobias had given him an injection and it was finally starting to fade a little. The feeling of cotton in his head, the dry mouth, the weird shakes and dizziness, the inability to think properly. God, they were _drugging_ him? Bad enough that they were holding him in a room he couldn't escape from. Now they were drugging him!

Shaking legs barely carried Spencer over to the gross looking cot. As much as he didn't want to lay on it, not having any idea who'd been there before, he didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to keep his body upright.

He collapsed down onto the cot and immediately curled himself into a ball. What was he going to do?

His team would look for him eventually, when he didn't return from his vacation. But how were they going to find him? They wouldn't know where to look. There was no telling how far the angel had taken them away from Vegas. And with all the supernatural wards and an actual angel on their side, the Winchesters would be able to keep him well hidden.

No one was coming for him. He was alone here, trapped in this room, empty and drugged. Spencer had never been the type to give up before—he'd always fought, always pushed on until he could find a way to get out of a situation—but that emptiness inside of him felt like a giant black hole, sucking him down and under, and this drugged feeling only made it all worse.

He was trapped here. And he was afraid there was going to be no way out.

* * *

When someone came by later with another tray of food, Spencer pretended to be asleep. He wasn't going to give them the chance to drug him again.


	6. Am I Evil? Part 5

Two days had gone by since the Castiel had brought their newest 'guest' to Bobby's place. Two days in which Sam had spent almost the entire time worrying. After his first talk with Spencer, the young doctor had shut down on them almost completely. He didn't talk to them, didn't eat, didn't do anything except sleep. At least, not while they were in the room. Sometimes things were moved around in a way that suggested that he'd done things while they were gone. Castiel had reported that he'd taken care of necessary bathroom items for Spencer as well, which had made Sam wince a little.

It was getting to the point that Sam was ready to say damn the consequences and just let him out. He hadn't signed on to torture anyone and that was exactly what they were doing. They could fancy it up under countless other words but it all boiled down to the fact that they were torturing him. They'd taken someone who could've been a great ally and they'd tricked him, locked him up, and kept him locked away for days. Any chance they'd had of actually gaining his help were pretty much lost now. Sam knew Spencer saw them on the same level as any other bad guy. Not that he could blame him.

Sam wasn't the only one who was feeling this way. When Sam once more brought up a tray that Spencer had refused to eat, Bobby looked up from where he had his chair parked by the bookshelf and he gave a sigh when he saw that the tray was still full. "We gotta do something before that kid wastes away." Bobby said.

Looking up from the laptop, Dean eyed the tray and there was a brief flash of worry in his eyes that was almost immediately smothered. "He'll have to give in and eat at some point. He's not gonna starve himself."

"When'd you turn so heartless, boy?" Bobby demanded, rolling forward so he could better see and scowl at Dean. "That aint no monster we got down there. That's a boy. A real, part human boy! An we've got him locked up like some demon!"

"What do you want us to do, Bobby? Let him out and have his powers go crazy and bring all the angels down on us? Or maybe let him accidentally do something that's not as nice as the stuff he was doing before?" Slapping the laptop lid down, and ignoring Sam's protesting glare at the move, he glared right back at their surrogate father. "You heard Cas! All the things that happened around the kid before, that was when he was happy. What do you think's gonna happen if we let him out now while he's upset?"

"So you just wanna hold him hostage until, what? Your angel finds a way to collar that kid? Cause let me tell you, I've heard him talk and he sure as hell don't sound like he's trying to help him none. He sounds more like he's trying to find a way to leash up his own personal attack dog. One he's convinced is gonna have to be put down once he's done using him."

It was blunt and harsh, yet no less true. Castiel had a disgust for Spencer's species that seemed to even rival the views the angels held on Sam. He'd thought that the angels had been disgusted by him, calling him an abomination. Their views on nephilim seemed to be so much worse.

Sam set the tray down on the counter and then turned around to lean back against the counter's edge. He brought a hand up and ran it through his hair. This whole situation had been screwed right from the start. Right from the instant that Castiel had touched the kid's head and knocked him out. Whatever they did now was only going to be damage control. But something had to be done. Something had to change. "Bobby's right, Dean. We can't keep doing this."

There was a brief moment where he thought his brother was going to protest. Then, surprisingly, the older Winchester deflated. "I know. But what the hell else are we gonna do?"

"Put up some new wards." Bobby said immediately. "We add some more wards around the property and hope they hold. The kid'll still be stuck in the house but that's a damn sight better'n the panic room."

"And if he doesn't wanna stay?" Dean asked.

No one had an answer to that.

After a long moment of quiet, Bobby rolled back towards the bookcase. "I'll look up the wards we need. Hopefully, we can get 'em up before breakfast tomorrow. Kid might eat if it was actually up at a table."

* * *

For Spencer the days seemed to drag on, one bleeding into the next in a way that would've been terrifying if he didn't feel so broken and empty on the inside. If he'd been in a better frame of mind, he would've been terrified by how quickly and how easily he broke. There was a part of him that knew that he'd say or do just about anything if it meant that they'd let him out of this room.

There was another part that just didn't care. He wasn't sure which one was scarier.

That empty feeling where his light had been only felt emptier and emptier with each passing moment. The raw edges where it'd been scraped away were aching and sore in ways he'd never experienced. It felt like something really had been _cut_ out of him and the wounds left behind were raw and inflamed. Maybe that was the case. Maybe his light had been scraped out of him and the wounds left behind were infected, seeping poison into his system. It was killing him inside and he didn't know how to stop it. He didn't know how to make it go away.

Food held absolutely no appeal to him. He'd been so sure that the Winchesters were using it to drug him somehow, only he'd refused a few meals now and that feeling didn't go away. His head is foggy and aching and his body feels like it's been run over.

 _This isn't right,_ a rational voice in the back of his mind whispers. It sounds a little like JJ and Spencer curls a little tighter into himself. He was curled up against the wall, out of the direct line of sight of the door. It was the only way he was going to get any semblance of privacy. _You're a fighter, Spence_ , JJ's vice whispers to him again. _This isn't you. Something's wrong here. Something serious. You need to tell them._

 _Why?_ Spencer wanted to ask her. He laid his head down on his knees and closed his eyes, exhausted. _Why bother? They don't care. They locked me in here, JJ. They locked me in here and left me here like this. Why should I tell them?_

 _Maybe they don't know,_ Derek's voice suggests.

Almost immediately it's follow by Aaron's stern voice. _If they wanted you dead, they would've killed you. They want you alive for something, Reid. That means they'll do what's necessary to keep you that way. Whatever this is, it's going to kill you if you don't find a way to fix it. You need to tell them_.

"Go away." He whispers. They don't understand. How could they? They had no idea what this felt like. They didn't know what it was like to get everything you were ripped away from you. "Just leave me alone. I'm tired." He was so damn tired. Tired of being taken, tired of being hurt, tired of fighting. He was just utterly exhausted and he didn't know if he could find the energy to keep going and keep trying. To keep fighting.

He was so caught up in the pain and the grief and the misery that he didn't even notice anyone coming until the sound of the door opening broke through his inner argument.

Spencer didn't bother lifting his head. He rolled it just enough that he could look with one eye through the small screen of hair that hung lank and loose in front of him. The person standing in the doorway wasn't anyone that Spencer had ever seen before. Without his light, Spencer can't see any deeper than the body, can't see anything that might be hidden inside. All he can see is the shock followed almost immediately by the absolute fury on the man's face. That should've worried him. He should've been scared.

He couldn't even bring himself to care. Spencer knew he should do something to stop the guy who was now coming towards him with purpose written in every inch of his body. The guy came right up to him and crouched down in front of him. Whatever he was going to do, there was nothing Spencer could do to stop it. A faint tremor ran down his body and he let his eyes close again.

"What're you doing in here, little bird?"

The man's voice was low and almost kind—almost—with just a hint of something else underneath it that was kind of sharp and maybe even a little bit dangerous. Should he answer it? Probably not. He had no idea who this guy was or why he was here. Did the Winchesters send him? Did they know he was here? It didn't seem likely if he was asking Spencer what he was doing here. Spencer sighed and let his head rest a little more heavily against his knees. "Does it matter?"

"It does to me." The guy said, and he sounded serious.

What harm could come from answering? Spencer didn't bother opening his eyes as he said, "I'm being kept for my own protection. I'm _dangerous._ " He didn't even have the energy to put the proper amount of scorn in those words as he would've days ago. They came out sounding heavy and throbbing with the pain that was pounding in his chest and in his head. _Alone_ , the pain called to him with each throb, like some sick parody of his heartbeat. _Alone. Gone. Alone. Gone. Empty. Alone. Alone. Alone._

"Shit." There was a soft rustle of movement that reminded Spencer that his visitor was still here. A second later, a firm hand settled on his shoulder, the first touch that Spencer had had in days. "Hang on, little bird. We're getting you the hell outta here." The hand on his shoulder slid, moving around his back, and Spencer felt another one slipping down to push between his thigh and his calf, getting under his legs. Arms that were far stronger than they should be cradled him easily and pulled him in against a solid chest before suddenly the ground was gone and the man was straightening up. Spencer knew he should care about the fact that he was being picked up. He should be wondering about who the hell this was and how he was strong enough to pick up another grown man without any signs of trouble. Yet all Spencer could do was slump down into the man's hold. _I'm so tired._

"I know you are." The man murmured. "It'll get better soon, I promise. Just a second, little bird, we're almost there."

Spencer realized they were moving and he mustered up just enough strength to start to hope that maybe he was finally, truly getting out of here. Then any and all thought was wiped away. The light that had been absent for so long came roaring back in with a ferocity that stole Spencer's breath away. It filled the empty places inside him, burning gloriously through his veins, chasing away the pain and the chill that had encompassed him ever since he'd first woken up in that hellhole. It was back. It was _back_! Spencer didn't even notice the tears that poured from his eyes.

He could feel it growing and pulsing in him, erratic and crazy in ways that had spelled trouble in the past, but there was another light there, warm and soothing, and it wrapped around him and cradled him in a net of safety. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. After so long empty and broken, all he could feel was this amazing warmth and love and he wanted to reach out to it, wanted to wrap himself up in it, but he couldn't.

The lessons he'd learned here had been hard ones and they were ones he wasn't going to easily forget. He'd trusted another light like this before, another _grace_ , and it had betrayed him. It'd almost destroyed him.

Though it hurt, Spencer gathered up what control he could and he curled into himself and yanked his light in as tight as possible.

The guy holding him made a soft sound that was both painful and heartbreaking. "What the hell did they do to you, kiddo?"

There was no way for Spencer to answer that. Judging by the sigh he heard, an answer wasn't expected.

Something in the air around them changed and Spencer fought not to jerk away in fear. He held himself tighter, gripped at his light and reveled in its presence inside of him.

The arms around him shifted and suddenly Spencer found himself being laid on something soft. He didn't really register the bit of grace that curled around him and cleaned him up. All he knew was that he was somewhere warm and soft and that empty place inside of him was no longer empty.

A hand brushed a bit of hair back from his face. "Sleep." The man told him, drawing his touch back. "I know you probably won't believe it, but you're safe here. Just sleep."

There was nothing else Spencer could do. Wrapped up in the light of his grace, free of pain for the first time in days, he slept.

* * *

No one realized Spencer was gone until morning. Dean went down to let Spencer out and to explain to him about the new wards, only to find the door to the panic room open and the nephilim nowhere in sight. Cursing, Dean spun on his heel and rushed back upstairs. "Bobby! Sam!"

Sam met him in the hall as he tore up the stairs and out of the basement. There was a gun in his hand and a ready look on his face. His eyes were scanning in immediate search for whatever kind of trouble had set his brother yelling like that. Not far behind him, Bobby was seated in the doorway to the living room, a shotgun held firmly in his lap. "What is it?" Sam demanded, his eyes seeking out Dean again now that there was no visible threat.

"The doc's gone." Just three words, but they had everyone tensing even more.

"Gone?" Bobby repeated. He lowered his shotgun, but not his guard. "What the hell do ya mean, gone?"

Dean threw his hands up in the air. "I mean the door was open and no one was inside. He's gone, Bobby!"

"How the hell did he get out?" Sam asked. He was lowering his gun as well. He didn't let go of it, though.

They all knew that there was no way to break out of the panic room from the inside. Even with powers that were as strong as Spencer's supposedly were. If his powers were capable of getting him out of there it would've happened sooner. But that meant that someone had _let_ him out. The three men all eyed one another as they debated whether or not one of them did it. "I didn't let him out." Sam said slowly. They knew Bobby couldn't; his chair couldn't get down there. Dean met Sam's eyes and said the same thing "I didn't let him out, either."

Only one other person knew he was there, at least to their knowledge. One quick, angry phone call from Dean later and Castiel was standing with them. Dean didn't bother wasting time. "Did you let the doc out of the panic room?"

Surprise and something that might've been panic lit up Castiel's face. "The nephilim is free?"

"I went down there this morning to let him out into the house only to find out there wasn't anyone in the room."

Castiel didn't answer; he simply vanished. There wasn't any chance for them to do more than startle and grumble a little at his sudden disappearance before he was back again. "Something, I am not sure what, let him out last night. I cannot tell who or what it was—they had themselves well shielded. The trail is hours old and it disappears right outside of the panic room. There's no way for me to track it."

"Well, hell." Bobby grumbled.

Could things get any better? They had a nephilim on the loose, one that probably hated them by now and would want nothing to do with them, and no idea how he got out of here or who had taken him. They basically had a walking WMD out there and no idea who was in control of it.

"Great." Dean grumbled. He dropped his head back and let it thunk the wall. "That's just fucking great."

What were they going to do now?


	7. Sanctuary Part 1

It'd been a long time since the archangel Gabriel had felt rage like this. The last time he could remember being this angry was the day his children had been cast out. The rage he'd felt then had almost leveled some parts of Asgard before he'd managed to get his archangel side under control. His whole cover had almost been blown that day. It was the last time he could remember feeling this absolutely furious.

Right up until he'd discreetly poked his head around to check on his two favorite chuckleheads.

He'd gone there thinking that he'd just check in on them as he'd done many times since he'd first met the two. They fascinated him; Sam especially so. For someone who had been dicked around by Heaven and Hell for longer than he even knew, the kid still had so much damn _faith_. It was amazing and sometimes just a bit humbling. Sam had messed up quite a lot in his life; he'd been pushed there, of course, nudged down a road he hadn't understood. But he still somehow held on to his faith that things would be okay. That somehow they would find a solution to this and make it better. He was full of self-loathing and guilt, but he was fighting. Gabriel had to respect that. Sometimes he'd admit to himself that he respected Dean a little bit too. The Righteous Man had been pushed hard as well and, despite a few dickhead moments, he was doing his damndest to win this thing. He was fighting.

Gabriel was seriously rethinking his respect for either Winchester right now.

With the knowledge he had of them, it hadn't been hard to track them down to Singer's Salvage. The wards there were good—just not good enough. Not for a Trickster who was used to getting around things.

When he slipped inside, he'd figured on checking on the boys, maybe poking at Sam to make sure that Lucifer wasn't haunting the sasquatch's sleep too much, and that would be that. His curiosity would be satisfied and maybe he could quit thinking about the two idiots and go back to his own tricks. What he found had been so much more.

Somehow Gabriel managed to hold on to his calm as he looked at the fledgling in his bed. This…he'd never expected this.

Once he'd seen the half-starved, broken fledgling curled up on the floor in that room, there hadn't been any real choice there. Gabriel had always loved helping out with the fledglings upstairs. He'd spent plenty of time helping to care for them, to teach them and play with them. Children were always a soft spot of his. Seeing this one in such condition was almost enough to make him break his cover and show those idiots just what happens when you truly piss off an archangel.

A rational part of his mind told him that they probably didn't even realize what they'd had there. Much as he kept using terms like 'kid' and 'fledgling' in his head, by human standards the little one was a full grown adult male. The hint of a soul inside of him said that he wasn't a full blooded angel—but the amount of grace said that he wasn't human, and he wasn't a nephilim. Gabriel knew nephilim intimately. Better than any of his brothers or sisters. Nephilim were powerful, yes, dangerously so, but they were an almost perfect half and half of human and angel.

This kid…Gabriel would put him at about eighty-five, almost ninety percent angel. Only once before had Gabriel ever seen something like this. It'd been when two angels had mated while both in vessels. Their combined grace, but the souls and bodies of the vessels, had made something that was more than nephilim, less than angel.

But that one, and other nephilim, had all had their powers from birth. This one? If Gabriel hadn't been able to see his physical body, he would've put him at, at most, eight months old. How was it that his grace was so young—young enough that his wings hadn't even really grown in yet!—and yet he had a physical body that looked to be in its twenties?

That was just one of many questions that Gabriel had. He could've reached out and looked into the little fledgling's mind and sought out answers that way but the way the kid had reacted to the touch of his grace before told him that that might not be a good idea. He'd pulled back from Gabriel's grace like it was going to burn him. That right there was even more devastating than the physical condition the kid had been in. Fledglings usually sought out the grace of other angels. Up in Heaven where they weren't confined by vessels, their true forms took on a shape but they were still made entirely of grace, and that was what they touched with. Gabriel had spent many a time sitting with the little ones crawling all over him, spilling into his lap or curling up underneath his wings. He remembered Castiel, the little Thursday's angel whose presence he'd felt all over Singer's house. He'd used to love to press right up against Gabriel's side, curled towards his back, and watch his wings for hours.

The questions just kept piling up the longer that he watched the kid sleep. None of them were going to get answered until he was awake and ready to talk. In the meantime, Gabriel needed to take advantage of him sleeping to go and double check his little sanctuary here and make sure there was nothing that he could stumble across that might hurt him, and he needed to adjust the wards to keep them sheltered here.

As he left the room he very deliberately avoided thinking about the fact that he'd just revealed his true self to someone for the first time since he'd left Heaven all those years ago. If he had his way he'd just ignore that part completely. He hadn't thought about the ramifications when he'd done it and it was too late to take it back now.

All he could do now was deal with the fallout. He'd been hiding himself for a long, long time. It wouldn't take much to help hide the kid as well.

* * *

When Spencer woke up, for the first time in too long it wasn't to a sensation of pain or fear or any of those things that had carved at his insides these past days. He woke to warmth and softness with his light glowing happily inside of him. For one brief moment he kept his eyes closed and just basked in the sensation of once more being whole. Complete. He flexed his light a bit and then relaxed and let it seep through every inch of his body. It chased away any residual ache inside, healing him from the inside out, and it was wonderful. Spencer wanted to burrow down into it and never leave.

Who knows how long he might've sat there just relishing in the feel if a voice hadn't broken his thoughts and intruded on his little moment of peace. "Well aren't you just a bright little glow bug."

The light inside of Spencer flared warm and happy at the sound of that voice and the feeling of warmth that accompanied it. The rest of Spencer wasn't so easy. His eyes snapped open and, finding a man standing not two feet from the edge of this massive bed he was lying on—when on earth had he gotten here?—and he immediately started to scramble back. The blankets tangled around his legs and Spencer's panicked scrambling only made it worse. The man lifted a hand like he was going to reach for him and Spencer jerked back even faster, the tangled blankets tripping him and sending him tumbling right off the edge of the bed.

He hit the ground with a hard thunk that jarred through him. He didn't care. Spencer shoved at the blankets and scrambled back even more. "Get back!"

There was a hint of concern in the guy's eyes as he drew back and held his hands up peacefully. But there was also humor there, showing brightly in unique amber eyes and in the small smirk on his lips. "Peace, kiddo. I'm not gonna hurt you." That smirk grew just the slightest bit. "You seem to be doing a pretty good job of that all on your own."

"Who are you?" Spencer croaked out. His throat was sore, a byproduct of not having really drank anything lately, but it was clear enough to get the words out. Bracing his hand on the wall, he carefully pulled himself up to his feet, watching the guy across from him while at the same time trying to scan the room in hopes of finding an exit if he needed to run. His brain logged little details, such as the giant bed or the opulence of his room, but mostly he noted that there were only two doors—one behind this guy and one off to the left. Neither of which he'd have a hope of getting two before the guy stopped him. There were windows here as well, both near Spencer and a giant skylight up in the ceiling, but he somehow doubted he'd be able to get out a window quick enough.

If the guy noticed his perusal, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he asked, "You don't remember?"

He stared at the guy who was just standing there, hands hooked into his pockets, and he tried to keep himself calm. Who was this guy? There was a vague memory of seeing him before, of him coming into Spencer's little prison and talking to him. Asking him questions, maybe? It sort of blurred together. The place that Spencer had been in, mentally, hadn't been that great. He just…hadn't cared enough to notice much in the way of details. He definitely hadn't cared enough to ask who this guy was or where he was taking him. Taking him…he had li— _grace_. Spencer had felt it. This guy had _grace_. That meant he was a…an angel. But which one? And what did he want with Spencer?

Leaning a little more against the wall, Spencer stared over at the shorter man, trying to understand. "You took me out of there."

The guy grinned. "Yep."

"Why?" Spencer couldn't stop the word slipping free. "What do you want from me?" So far, everyone had wanted _something_ from him.

"For you to be safe."

He thought of a similar promise from a different group and a different angel. He remembered the burn of grace as Castiel put whatever protective sigils on Spencer's ribs, and then the betrayal as that same grace had turned on him and knocked him unconscious. That sharp reminder had Spencer shifting back ever so slightly. No matter how much his light seemed to want to reach out to this being, there was no way Spencer was going to be that stupid again.

The guy watching him let out a low whistle. "Boy, they really screwed up with you, didn't they, little bird?" He shook his head and his expression was almost sad. "We'll get into that later. For now, you need to eat. You're still partially human—you need things like food and water." Sharp amber eyes ran over Spencer's body and back up to his face. "You're practically wasting away. Didn't they feed you there?"

Without making the conscious choice to actually answer this guy, Spencer found himself saying "I didn't eat." He could remember trays of food being brought in and later on being taken away. He hadn't touched them after that first one.

"Why not?" The guy asked, looking bewildered.

Spencer debated the merits of actually answering that honestly or not. He knew it was smart to play his cards close to the chest and try and probe for what kind of information this guy had and what his real motives were for taking Spencer. But at the same time, he had to give him something, and answering might allow him to better gauge his captor. Tilting his head, he watched through the fringe of his bangs, eyes sharp as they took in everything. "Why would I? I'm pretty sure they were drugging me somehow. Why would I make it easy?"

"You think they were drugging you?" The incredulity in the being's voice had Spencer biting his tongue. Instead, he settled for shrugging one shoulder. It had seemed the most logical answer for why his head had felt the way it had. Spencer was rather intimate with the feeling of being drugged. What he'd felt was pretty similar to when he'd had a little too much. Tired, fuzzy headed, slow. Only, the guy watching him now looked so saddened and so horrified by Spencer's answer. It looked like he was having a hard time not moving towards him. Instead, he settled for just leaning forward a bit, his expression earnest as his eyes locked on Spencer's face. "Kiddo, what you felt wasn't drugs, I swear. I would've felt that in you when I brought you here. What you felt was your body's physical reaction to the wards on the room. Some of those wards in that room were keyed to angels. They're meant to keep them out. When you went in, it basically ripped away your angel self and left it trapped outside that room. Only, since it's a part of you and tied to your soul, it wasn't completely _gone_. Just, held back."

That explained the empty feeling he'd felt. Curiosity overrode caution and Spencer tilted his head to the side curiously. "How'd you get in and out, then?"

The guy's smile changed into something that was more of a smug smirk. "They keyed it to angels, little bird. Not archangels." He paused, like he hadn't just dropped some huge bombshell, and corrected himself. "At least, not all of us. Sigils to keep out an archangel are much more powerful and much more specific. They were warded against my brothers—they didn't know they needed to ward against me." Shrugging, he grinned again. "Benefits of everyone thinking I'm dead I guess."

There was so much about that that Spencer wanted to comment on. All that came out was, " _Archangel_?"

"Sometimes. Not often anymore." He shrugged, grin still in place. With exaggerated movements, he gave a parody of a bow, and the air around him seemed to shimmer as a shield of some sort fell away. Spencer's mouth dropped open in awe as wings that hadn't been there before became visible against his back. Not just one pair, like Castiel had had, but three pairs—six great big wings of white and gold that were bigger and more beautiful than anything Spencer had ever seen before. "The archangel Gabriel at your service, squirt." He winked at Spencer as he straightened back up. "I go by Loki these days, though. Not many know my other name. Just my kids. And, well, you now."

"Why?" Spencer asked before he could stop himself. His eyes were still on Gabriel's wings, not quite able to lose his awe over them. Whereas Castiel's wings had scared him a little, the threat in them so blatantly obvious, Gabriel's were so beautiful he almost couldn't look away.

"Gotta be a little clearer there, little sparrow. Why what?"

Spencer chose to ignore yet another bird nickname. Information had always been something he lived on and this being was just offering it up to him. The insatiable need to know that always resided in Spencer had his mouth running despite the voice in his head that told him that maybe demanding answers of an _archangel_ wasn't the best idea. "Why doesn't anyone know you're Gabriel? Why Loki? Why do people think you're dead? And why tell me?"

This time Gabriel's smile was much warmer and much more open. There was a quality to it that Spencer remembered seeing on the faces of his friends a time or two when he really got on a roll with questions and fact-finding. What it was, he wasn't sure, but it made his grace hum happily inside of him. "That's a lot of questions." Gabriel pointed out. "Tell you what – I'll answer em, if you come eat."

The low rumble of Spencer's stomach answered for him. Gabriel grinned when he heard the sound. Ignoring the blush that filled Spencer's cheek, he gestured with one hand for the young genius to follow him. "Come on, let's go out to the kitchen."

Was there really any choice? Spencer needed answers and he wouldn't get them hiding out in this room. Besides which, he'd been cooped up for so long the idea of walking anywhere felt immensely appealing. And it would allow him to look around and figure out where he was, too. With that in mind, Spencer pushed away from the wall and carefully set off after his newest captor.

They wandered out of the bedroom and down a hallway before Gabriel led them down a staircase. When they got to the bottom Spencer couldn't help how he stared around him in awe. The place had a wide open floor plan with plenty of windows to let in the natural light and show off the trees to one side and the wide, sandy beaches on the other. The place was done in warm woods and easy, beach-themed colors. This place, it was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Even more stunning than the home itself was the wide open view of the beach and the ocean, though. Spencer had loved the ocean ever since he'd first seen it when he went to California. This place…this was beautiful. There were no tourists out on the beach, no other houses or anything that Spencer could se. Just sand and the bright blue water.

He didn't notice Gabriel standing nearby, watching him fondly as he took in everything around him. A hint of Spencer's awe showed in his voice as he turned his gaze back in from the windows and asked "Where are we?"

"A private island of mine not far out from the Bahamas." Gabriel answered.

A private island? But how had they…they'd flown. Like how Castiel had taken him from Vegas to wherever he'd been in that basement. They'd flown. That explained the weird sensation that Spencer remembered feeling before Gabriel had laid him down in the bed. Then the rest of Gabriel's comment kicked in and Spencer's brain easily filled in the blanks there. No…no way. Slowly, he turned to look at Gabriel, hesitant to ask his question and come off looking like a fool if he was wrong. There was something on Gabriel's face that gave him the courage to ask "Are we…in the Bermuda triangle?"

"Yep." Gabriel drew the word out, popping the 'p' at the end. At Spencer's stunned look, he grinned. "Keeps people away."

"I don't even know how to begin to address that."

"We start with breakfast. Have a seat."

This was all too surreal. Spencer found himself sitting at a tall bar in the kitchen with Gabriel sitting just a few stools down from him. It took all he had not to jump back when a snap from Gabriel brought a platter of food onto the bar. "Eat." The archangel told him. He saw Spencer's nerves and smiled encouragingly. "There's nothing in it. Eat, kiddo."

Spencer debated for a long moment as he looked down at the food. So far, this guy, angel, hadn't hurt him. If anything, he'd _saved_ him. That didn't mean that Spencer could or would trust him. It did, however, mean that maybe he could unbend enough to take the food being offered. Besides, starving himself would do nothing in the end except make him weaker. He'd been without food or water too much these past couple days. He needed energy. Whether he liked it or not, he had to eat something. The way that Gabriel beamed at him as he picked up the fork and speared a bit of fruit had nothing at all to do with his choice.

Only when he'd seen the first bite go into Spencer's mouth did Gabriel finally nod and settle down in his chair. Now that he was sure Spencer was actually eating, he seemed ready to answer Spencer's questions. Something told Spencer that he wasn't happy about having to answer them, though.

Years of working at the BAU and plenty of training had helped Spencer become quite adept at reading body language but the being across from him seemed to have a great amount of control over his body. There wasn't much physical that gave away his discomfort. No, it was something else entirely that gave him away. It was the way that his wings were moving behind him. They'd sort of drawn in, hunched ever so slightly kind of like a person hunching their shoulders when they were uncomfortable or unhappy with a subject. Were wings that good a guide to emotions as bodies were? Spencer decided it was worth keeping an eye on and he logged that little bit of information away in the back of his mind. The rest of him just focused on Gabriel and waited.

It only took a second before the archangel sighed. A corner of his mouth quirked up like he was trying to pull on that amused expression that Spencer had seen him wearing earlier. "My story really isn't long or big or anything like that. Before my brother was cast out, the fighting upstairs was pretty bad. By the time Mikey threw him out and locked him in the Cage, well, let's just say Heaven wasn't exactly Heaven anymore."

He said it so casually, like he was trying to pretend it didn't hurt, but his wings curled in a little and they dropped down just the slightest bit. Worry? Pain? Sadness? Spencer tried to classify what he thought those things might signify.

Gabriel shrugged his shoulder and leaned back in his chair. He pulled a sucker from his pocket and unwrapped it before popping it in his mouth. The stick stuck out off to the side as the archangel grinned around it. "I got tired of the fighting, so I left. Skipped out of Heaven, got a face transplant, and I carved out my own little corner of the world. I became Loki. Kind of the perfect hiding place. There was no way my family was gonna look for me with the pagans."

Considering what Spencer knew from the Winchesters—and his mind still boggled over the idea of the _Apocalypse_ even though he'd had days now to get used to it—he supposed he could understand what had made Gabriel run and hide. To become Loki, though…that was quite a change, even if hiding in the pagans _was_ a smart place to go. Spencer could understand how he could consider it perfect. Why would angels think to look in the pagans? But, that brought up so many new questions. Had he just taken the place of Loki? Had he invented him? How did that work?

A warm laugh broke into Spencer's thoughts. He looked up to find Gabriel watching him with that same strange, happy look he'd worn most of the morning. There was something in it that Spencer didn't quite understand. "I can practically see the thoughts racing around in your head there, fledgling."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Spencer asked, spearing another bit of food and chewing on it.

"Because that's what you are. And, you know, you still haven't exactly told me your name."

Spencer chewed his bite slowly and waited until he swallowed before he spoke. He avoided the name bit, ridiculous though that may seem. "The other angel, he said I'm a nephilim." He'd said it like it was something filthy, too. Like it was something Spencer should be ashamed of. Unconsciously, the young genius hunched down a little, his shoulders curving in.

The way he drew in on himself didn't go unnoticed by his companion. The light in Gabriel's eyes sharpened a little and his wings pushed out behind him and shook out in a way that made Spencer think of an animal bristling up in some sort of angry display. "He's an idiot who doesn't know what he's talking about." Gabriel snapped. Then, with visible restraint, he drew his wings back in and sighed before shaking his head. The tension seemed to drain out of him. "Then again, he doesn't know any better. Cassie boy was one of the last fledglings Dad ever made, and he never encountered any nephilim. He wouldn't know the difference between them and you."

Spencer chewed on his bottom lip watched Gabriel's face carefully. "There's a difference?"

"Yeah. I can see how he got confused. You've got a soul in there, kiddo, don't doubt that. But you've got too much grace to be nephilim. Way too much. You're, more than a nephilim, but not quite an angel. You're something kind of new. There's only been one like you before and only the Firstborn would recognize you for what you are."

So, even among angels he was something of a freak. Not human, not nephilim, not angel. He was different than everyone else—the same as he'd always been. Spencer's shoulders drooped and he dropped his eyes down to his plate. He pushed absently at his food with his fork and tried not to think about how unfair it all was. Was he just destined to always be the different one? To always be stuck not fitting in anywhere? Not at home, not at school, not at work. Always trying so damn hard to fit in and always falling short of the mark. Sometimes it felt like he'd get so close and then he'd say or do something that would mark him as _different,_ as _not like them_.

Laying his fork carefully down on his plate, Spencer deliberately kept his eyes averted from the being across from him as he softly said "I'd like to go lay down for a while, if that's all right. I'm tired."

There was a long moment of quiet during which he didn't dare look up. Finally, he heard a soft sound that might've been a sigh, or it might've been just the whisper of the wind. "Sure, kiddo. I'm sure this is a lot to take in and you're still kind of recovering anyways. You remember your way to the bedroom?"

"Yes." Even as he pushed up from his chair, manners had Spencer saying "Thank you for the meal."

"You're welcome."

The room he left behind was silent.

* * *

Gabriel watched the kid go and wished with everything he had that he could reach out and grab the little fledgling and gather him up with arms and wings and grace and hold him close and safe until all those broken little parts started to heal together. At the same time he wanted to fly out and find anyone and everyone who was responsible for damaging him like this. If he could get his hands on them, he'd teach them a lesson they wouldn't soon forget.

The Trickster part of him reminded him that he did know a few of the ones who had done some of the damage he'd just seen on the young one.

His lips curved up in a smile that was slow and devious. He'd already been contemplating putting together a little trick for that bunch. Maybe it was time to adapt his plans a little and teach them a different sort of lesson. It'd take a bit of work to get it just right. He'd have to put some real thought it in. The last time he'd tried to teach them a lesson he'd failed spectacularly. This time he'd have to put a bit more thought into it.

This was going to be so much fun.


	8. Sanctuary Part 2

Spencer did eventually end up falling asleep in the rather opulent bedroom that he'd woken up in earlier. He'd spent a while lying in bed first with his brain running in circles as he tried to process everything that had happened and everything he'd been told. Finding out about angels had been hard enough. Finding out that he was part angel had been even harder. But this? Everything that Gabriel had told him? It was too much. Add in that he was hearing it all from the mouth of the _Messenger_ and Spencer just needed time to think. He just needed time to relax and let it all settle in somewhere inside of his brain. Spencer had always thought he'd done his best work under extreme pressure, but these past few days had truly put him to the test on that.

He hadn't planned on actually sleeping but his body was still very much recovering and it gave him no choice.

However, sleep seemed to help. When Spencer woke up again he found himself just a bit more relaxed than before. All of his thoughts didn't seem to be fighting against one another to be noticed and they weren't banging around against the inside of his skull. They were still there, the sheer amount of information that he'd been given still slightly overloaded, but there was a bit more room now. Room to think rationally and logically.

Lying in the large, opulent bed, which felt amazingly better than any bed he'd ever been in, Spencer stared up at the skylight and let his thoughts try to finally put themselves in some sort of order.

Putting the idea of the 'apocalypse' into perspective wasn't easy, but it was the easiest by far out of everything he'd discovered. Which, really, was rather strange considering he'd never been the religious type. He knew demons existed, though. Didn't it make sense that there was an opposite to them? Besides, it was hard to deny what he'd seen with his own eyes. Castiel, Gabriel – their _wings_. Their _grace_. He'd seen them both. How could he deny their existence?

Once Spencer reconciled those, coming to terms with the idea that the apocalypse was coming was much easier and at the same time much more terrifying.

For the moment, he pushed that little revelation to the back of his head. He didn't know if he could think about that. Not right now. Not when there was nothing he could currently do.

The hardest part was coming to terms with discovering who _he_ was. For so long Spencer had lived without a name for what he was. He'd just known that he was different. That he was something _other_. Never once had it occurred to him that he'd be the child of an angel. Or, if Gabriel were really to be believed, _two_ angels. Two angels in human vessels. That meant...that meant his mother had been possessed at some point. That thought had Spencer's whole body going tense. Sam and Dean's brief explanations had made it sound like angelic possession could be harder on a vessel than demonic possession in some ways. Had they _damaged_ her? Whoever had been inside his mother, had they hurt her? Could they…were they the reason she was so ill?

Spencer brought his hands up and pressed them in against his eyes. Dammit, he didn't need to think like this. That kind of thought was going to get him nowhere except for more upset or more angry. Neither emotion was going to do any good. What he needed to do was stop lying here and moping. What did it matter if the apocalypse was going on, if he was some weird angel-fledgling _thing_? So long as he was trapped here with a brand new captor, what did any of it matter? He could think about it all once he was _free._ Until then, he needed to push everything else back. He could deal with it later.

With that firm resolve in mind, Spencer finally pushed himself up out of bed and focused on the world around him. He tried to ignore the weakness he still felt in his body. It was already less than it had been, and nothing compared to the way he'd felt in that prison.

A shiver ran down Spencer's spine. He didn't want to think about that room—ever. It was something he knew was going to give him nightmares for a long, long time.

His careful search of the room yielded no weapons of any sort hidden away. However, he did find a dresser full of clothes that looked to be about his size. He wasn't quite sure if he found that disturbing or not.

The other door, the one that didn't lead out of the room, he discovered led him to a bathroom that was just as opulent as the bedroom. It had a big Jacuzzi tub raised up on one far side of it, with windows and a skylight that would allow him to look outside while at a level that would keep people from looking _inside_. Near that was a stall with a shower inside that looked beyond wonderful. Spencer had to fight back the urge to climb right in and scrub himself clean. Right now he needed to focus.

Nothing on any of Spencer's senses told him that there was anyone nearby. Not that he was going to rely on that. Gabriel had kept his wings and grace hidden from him before. What's to say he couldn't mask his presence entirely? With that in mind, Spencer was very careful and as quiet as he could be as he crept from his room.

He needn't have bothered. When he reached the downstairs, he found a note sitting on the bar where he'd eaten breakfast earlier. He picked it up and found a message from Gabriel written in a fancy, scrawling script that, oddly enough, seemed to suit the being…man…whatever he was.

 _Went to go check a few things. Make yourself at home – G_

So apparently his senses were right – he was alone here. Spencer wasn't stupid enough to waste that opportunity. Though the light inside of him seemed to almost protest to that, twisting in a way that was nauseating, the young genius ignored the part of him that was telling him to stay and he quickly made his way over to the door. No matter that Gabriel had saved him from the last place he'd been. Spencer wasn't going to stay with anyone. He wanted to go home.

* * *

Two hours later it was a much more subdued Spencer that returned to the only house he'd been able to find on this entire island.

There'd been nothing else out there. Spencer was still stunned even as he dragged himself, aching and sweaty, up to his bedroom. Nothing but water and sand and a small forest that, really, wasn't all that large. It mostly worked as a backdrop for the home here. The island itself was barely anything at all. Just enough for this grand house here, the forest behind it, and the beaches. There was nothing and no one else for miles that Spencer had been able to see or feel. There hadn't even been a boat! Nothing. Just, this. He was trapped here.

He took a quick shower, after making sure that the bathroom door was locked shut. Not that he thought a lock would keep out an archangel.

When he was clean and dressed once more, wearing a simple pair of khaki colored linen pants and the matching white linen shirt that he'd found in one of the drawers, he slipped on clean socks and his shoes and then made his way back downstairs. The clothes felt sort of strange, loose and kind of breezy, but they were suited to the warm climate around him and they were cleaner than what he'd been wearing.

Spencer hadn't taken the time to look around downstairs once he'd found that note earlier. He did now and he discovered a tray sitting on the counter. On the tray was a covered dish that he found, on closer inspection, hid a plate of somehow still perfectly chilled fruits. Spencer stared at it for a long moment and debated whether or not he wanted it. His stomach rumbled, voicing an opinion, and his traitorous light still seemed way to creepily fond of Gabriel and pretty much anything he said or did. It made him want to be contrary. He wanted to ignore the food, ignore any signs of kindness from this being. He didn't want to become dependent on him. He didn't want to _like_ him. Gabriel might've saved him from that iron prison, and for that Spencer could only be grateful, and he might've even brought him here and started giving him answers, but that didn't take away from the fact that he'd brought him to what was essentially a remote, deserted island with no other life here and absolutely no way out. Spencer was just as trapped here as he'd been in that room, only here he got the illusion of safety to go with it.

But Spencer had made his decision earlier when he'd eaten a bit with Gabriel. Denying himself food wasn't the smart idea here. Especially not with him still recovering – a recovery that hadn't been made better by his wandering around the island. Reluctantly, Spencer helped himself to some of the fruit.

Of course, it had to be some of the most delicious fruit he'd ever eaten.

As he munched on a bit of the food, Spencer decided that it was time to do a better inspection downstairs, before Gabriel returned from wherever and whatever he was doing. Looking around down here provided him with the same lack of weapons, though. Not that he really thought he'd stand a chance with any kind of weapon against an angel. _Archangel_ , his mind corrected. Most supernatural things could only be hurt with something specific. Spencer had a feeling that held true for archangels as well.

He did find other interesting things here, though. Nothing personal. No photos, no signs of anything like that. The place was rather simplistic in its designs. Something made more for a relaxed getaway than a _home_. But against one wall he found a bookshelf full of books he'd never even seen before. Fantasy books, historical books, classics, and books on the supernatural.

It was those last ones that Spencer settled on. With the tray of food set onto a small table, and a stack of books ready to go, Spencer sank down onto an extremely comfortable chaise lounge and pulled the first book off the stack. If he was going to be trapped here, he might as well entertain himself _and_ gather information.

* * *

Hours later he'd worked through quite a few of the books. There was a stack beside him still waiting to be read, but he'd also accumulated a stack of finished ones. He was halfway through his current book when he heard a low chuckle and then a warm voice saying "Well I see someone's been busy."

Brown eyes shot up quickly to find Gabriel standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall and watching him with a smirk on his lips. Spencer couldn't quite hide his surprise. How on earth had Gabriel arrived without him knowing about it? It had to have something to do with some shields he had over him. Once more his wings and grace were hidden from sight as well.

Almost the instant he had that thought, he saw Gabriel give a little shrug, like he was shrugging something off, and then his shields just fell away and Spencer could see the grace packed inside the vessel, and those beautiful wings came arching up from his back once more. It was a beautiful sight to see. Even with everything going on, all the conflicting emotions he felt towards his current captor, he couldn't deny the beauty of him. Like this, it was easier to believe that he was an archangel. Spencer could see it.

Gabriel's smirk grew into a grin. "Been a long time since someone looked at me like that." He said teasingly. Immediately, Spencer dropped his gaze, a blush warming his cheeks. Seeing it, Gabriel laughed low and warm. He strolled forward and sat himself down in a chair opposite Spencer. Well, more like sprawled. He had one leg thrown over the armrest and let it dangle there, kicking lightly, as he pulled a bag of what looked to be Skittles from his pocket. It was startling and kind of creepy for Spencer to see as Gabriel's wings just sort of…went through the chair. It was like, even though Spencer could see them, they somehow weren't all the way there, passing through the solid object like it was nothing.

With the hand holding the bag, Gabriel gestured towards the stack of books near Spencer's feet. "I'm guessing those are the ones you've already read?"

Spencer nodded, his blush deepening at the appraising look Gabriel gave him. "I like to read." There was a hint of defensiveness in his voice that he couldn't quite help there.

"I can tell." Gabriel said dryly. He opened up the bag and poured a few Skittles into his hand.

Watching him, Spencer closed the book that he held. "There wasn't much else to do, anyways."

"Yeah. Sorry about that, kiddo. I had a bit of business to take care of."

"Spencer." The young genius blurted out. When Gabriel lifted his eyebrows in a surprised look, Spencer shuffled a bit in his seat and looked away briefly before gathering his courage and looking back. He met Gabriel's eyes and sat up straighter in his seat. "SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. But, um, most people just call me Reid." His training had kicked in enough to remind him that humanizing himself to his captor was always a good thing. Make them see you as human, as a person, not as a thing or as whatever fantasized creation they'd come up with. Sometimes it could make it harder for them to do whatever it was they wanted to do. And here, where there was no one around to stop anything from happening, the possibilities of what Gabriel could do were endless and terrifying.

Something briefly passed over Gabriel's face. His wings, which still sort of creeped him out to see how they were entirely unaffected by the solid objects that should've constrained them, drew in for just a moment before spreading back out almost lazily. "You're a federal agent?"

"I am. I'm part of the Behavioral Analysis Unit." There was only a moment's hesitation before he tacked on, "I was on leave when I ran into the Winchesters, but my team will be expecting me to return soon." Not entirely true, of course. They wouldn't be expecting him yet. But eventually they would. And when he didn't return, they'd look for him. He knew that. They'd look everywhere. They just wouldn't have any idea that they should be looking out in the middle of the _Bermuda Triangle_.

Gabriel didn't comment on that. They both knew that there was no way Spencer would be found here. Instead, he focused on something else. "And you're a doctor, too? What kind of doctor?"

That was a surprising question. Spencer couldn't recall the last time someone had asked what kind of doctor he was and not just assumed that it was something to do with medicine. "Does it matter?"

"I'm curious. Humor me."

What harm could come from the small bit of information? He knew Spencer's name now. It wouldn't be hard to look him up. "I have three doctorates. Mathematics, chemistry and engineering. I also have B.A.'s in psychology, sociology and philosophy."

"Wow." Gabriel let out a low whistle and his expression was dutifully impressed. "That's quite a collection of degrees there, kiddo."

For a moment Spencer stared at the being across from him. Gabriel wasn't…he didn't quite make sense. He wasn't what Spencer expected him to be. It was startlingly easy to sit here and talk to him and just, talk. Spencer had to remind himself that this man was holding him here. That he was, essentially, yet another captor. No matter how nice he was or how prettily it was all dressed up, that's what he was.

Something must've shown on his face because Gabriel was looking at him now with something that seemed to be a cross between worry and resignation, all covered with a mask of amusement. "You don't trust me." He said bluntly.

There was no way Spencer could answer that except honestly. "No."

"I'm trying to help you."

Spencer shrugged his shoulder and carefully set his closed book down on the stack, avoiding looking over at the archangel. "Funny enough, that's what I keep hearing. Yet somehow I keep ending up a prisoner."

"You're not a prisoner here."

"A cage is still a cage, no matter how fancy the bars." Spencer folded his hands in his lap and drew his knees up a bit more towards his chest. "Yours is nicer than the last one that I was in, but no less restrictive. I'm trapped on this island the same as I was locked in that room."

Some of the amusement was gone from Gabriel's face now. He sat up a little more in his chair, a bit more serious as his amber eyes met Spencer's. "Spencer, I meant it when I said you're not a prisoner here. I brought you here to heal and to learn how to control your grace, not to keep you hostage."

"They said the same thing." Fighting back the nausea in his stomach, Spencer clenched his hands tightly where Gabriel couldn't see them and tried to keep as calm as possible. "They said they wanted to help, that they were going to put some sigils on my ribs to hide me, and I was stupid enough to trust them. To trust an angel to keep his word. The next thing I know I'm being knocked out and waking up in that, _place_." A shiver ran down his spine. "And they kept me in there for _days_ while their angel tried to find a way to leash the dangerous nephilim, all the while telling me it was to keep me safe so _Lucifer_ couldn't use me." Never mind that he would've stayed of his own free will if they'd just given him the choice.

"Spencer…" Gabriel looked like his heart was breaking as he watched Spencer. His wings were curling forward, almost like they were trying to reach out to him, and Spencer could feel the ache coming off him. "I'm sorry your first experience with angels had to be such a damn bad thing and I know you've got no reason to trust a damn thing I've got to say. I get that. Trust takes time, and I swear to Dad I'll find a way to earn it. But I really did bring you here to help you, not to hurt you. You need help learning control and way out here, there's no one that can be bothered by our practice and there's the right kind of wards to keep you hidden _without_ taking your grace from you."

"You really want to teach me?" Spencer asked him. "Not just…just control me. But actually teach me to use what I have."

"Yes." Gabriel answered immediately. "And I can do some of it without ever having to touch you, either. I can keep my grace to myself until you're comfortable with it. For now, I'll show you the things that I can teach you with just my words." His look turned to something just a little sad and a little soft. "Maybe once we do those, you'll feel a little more comfortable."

For some reason Spencer found himself dropping his gaze down and away from Gabriel at that remark. It took him a second to realize that he was embarrassed. _Embarrassed_! Because he didn't trust his _captor_! Why on earth should he feel embarrassed about that? Pushing that down, he tried to lift his chin and pretend like he was more confident and in control than he actually was. If Gabriel was willing to teach him then Spencer wasn't going to be stupid enough to turn it down. "Please." He said, meeting Gabriel's eyes and not flinching back. "Teach me."

The Skittles bag vanished from Gabriel's hand and the archangel pushed himself up from the chair with one easy move. He smiled down at Spencer and held out a hand. "C'mon, kid. Let's go somewhere a bit more open for this."

Spencer stared at his hand for a long moment. Then, drawing in a careful breath, he firmed his resolve. Learning didn't mean that he had to actively trust this being. He would take what he taught him and pay close attention to each lesson. As for trust – whether he'd earn that would remain to be seen. Spencer uncurled himself and placed his hand in Gabriel's smaller one.

He tried to ignore how happily his grace leapt at the contact.

* * *

They ended up outside on the beach together. Gabriel claimed that it was easier for what they were going to do if they were outside and closer to nature. "A lot of this is going to come a whole lot easier once we can get you squared away with that part of yourself." He told Spencer as they settled down on a patch of sand. "Right now, it's reacting to your wants and needs and causing little minor miracles here and there."

"So what do I do?" Spencer asked. He crossed his legs, facing the ocean like Gabriel had directed, while the archangel settled in beside him.

"If we were home, it wouldn't be a problem. Most fledglings don't have to learn how to rein themselves in because there's nothing they can do up there to cause damage, and there's always an angel watching."

"Like you've been doing for me." He'd noticed how calm his grace was in Gabriel's presence and had figured it was something the archangel was doing.

"Exactly." Gabriel beamed brightly at him. "Now, I'm assuming you'd like to see the mainland some time this century and not just be stuck here, with me, so we're gonna have to do things a bit differently than normal."

What came next was one of the strangest lessons that Spencer had ever been through in his life. It was almost like an exercise in meditation. True to his word, Gabriel never once reached out for Spencer with his grace. He kept space between them as well so that they weren't touching. Not even with his wings did he touch Spencer, though the young genius could feel them up behind them like some sort of protective shield that actually left him feeling a bit more relaxed. He chose not to think about why that was.

It was amazingly easy for Spencer to meditate down and find that place inside of himself where his grace and soul were centered. He'd always been aware of his light on some level or another. Having a name for it and words to put to what he did only made the whole process a little easier. Nothing in Spencer's life had ever felt as good as when he stopped trying to hold back his grace and just let himself bask in it. Later, he would admit to himself that the only thing that kept him grounded in his body, that kept him from just letting his grace go however it wanted, was the anchor of Gabriel's smooth voice talking him through it all.

The archangel didn't teach him to just find his grace, though. He told him about how it worked. How using it could deplete it, just like any other energy source. "Grace is simply another form of energy, if you really boil it down. That's such a simplistic description but it works right now for our purposes. And like any energy, it can get drained if you use it too much. Usually, you'd be plugged into the home office and that would help you get all the juice you need, and you'd only have to tap into your soul power as a last resort or to bolster what you're doing. But right now, touching home isn't the smartest plan. So, I'm gonna teach you how to recharge yourself using the glory of Dad in the things around us." Pausing, Gabriel huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "Wow, I sound like an ass."

There on that beach, Spencer learned not only how to connect with who he really was, but how to always keep that light burning brightly no matter where he was or what was going on around him. In just a few short hours Gabriel gave Spencer access and a sense of control over himself in a way he never had before. Facts and information had always been important to Spencer and there'd been a part of him that was just a bit scared of this part of himself over the years because he'd never known how it worked, what it could do or what might happen. Gabriel gave him that understanding. He talked Spencer through it all and never once hesitated to answer any question that Spencer put to him.

By the time the sun was setting on the horizon, Spencer felt both rejuvenated and yet utterly exhausted. It must've showed because Gabriel smiled at him and called a halt to their lessons for the day. "That's plenty enough for one day, squirt. Let's give some of it time to sink in a bit and let your body rest. For now, why don't we go inside and get something to eat? I'm sure you're starving by now."

He was, actually. His stomach rumbled it's agreement, making Spencer blush and Gabriel laugh.

The two were halfway back to the house before Spencer spoke again. "Thank you." He said softly, not looking over at the man beside him. Gabriel had kept his word today. He'd helped Spencer, taught him, walked him through it all without ever touching him or trying to force him to do anything. He'd done exactly what he'd said he would, he'd helped Spencer, and the young genius felt himself softening just the slightest bit.

He could feel the way Gabriel's grace warmed at his words. "You're more than welcome, kiddo. It's my pleasure."

Together, the two made their way inside. Maybe, just maybe, things were looking up. Maybe. Only time would tell. But for now, Spencer felt a small bit of hope that things might really be okay.


	9. Sanctuary Part 3

Their first lesson seemed to set the tone for the next few days. The two fell into a routine there at Gabriel's little beach hideaway. Each morning Spencer joined the archangel for breakfast, where Gabriel displayed a sweet tooth unlike any Spencer had ever seen, and then the two would separate for a while. Gabriel would go do whatever it was that archangels turned tricksters did and Spencer would work through more of Gabriel's books. There were quite a few in there and Gabriel seemed to have no issue replacing the ones Spencer had read with new ones. He even put a series up there that he called the Winchester Gospels that he'd grinned and insisted Spencer read.

Then in the afternoon, after lunch, Gabriel would return and the two would spend most of the afternoon, breaking for dinner, and part of the evening in 'training' on how to use and control his grace. Spencer found himself softening towards Gabriel more and more as time passed and it scared him a little, yet it was wonderful as well. To learn about this part of himself, it was just…it was so much. He was learning not just about his grace and how to use it, but about Heaven and angels in general. Gabriel shared stories with him of times gone past, of a Heaven that had once been glorious. Even as it would make the archangel's eyes sad, he'd tell Spencer stories of what his home had once been like, back before the wars. It was like he was trying to give Spencer the history that, according to him, all angels had from birth.

"I could share it all with you, grace to grace." He told Spencer on his third day there. "But, it's nice telling stories. It's been a long time since I sat and remembered."

They hadn't really shared grace yet, the two of them. Gabriel taught him everything he could by word alone. It wasn't until the fifth day there that Spencer finally let Gabriel's grace touch him, even just the slightest bit.

It was during their lunch when Spencer was shifting yet again on his seat in an effort to get more comfortable. The backache that he felt like he lived with almost constantly was bugging him a little more than normal and nothing he did seemed to ease it. The warm shower that morning had helped, a little. But he just _ached_. It didn't take long for Gabriel to notice it and to call him out on it. "You got ants in your pants there, kiddo, or you just feel like dancing all around your seat?"

"What?" Spencer looked up to find the archangel watching him with a bemused expression on his face. Even in their short time together he'd learned that Gabriel found amusement in almost everything. No matter the situation, it was normal to see the trickster archangel greet it with a smile, a smirk, or a laugh.

Snorting, Gabriel gestured with his fork towards Spencer. " _That_. You keep wiggling like that and you're gonna fall right outta your chair. What's up?"

He realized what Gabriel was talking about and he found himself flushing. _Again_. "It's nothing. Just a backache, that's all."

"You get those often?"

No, he really didn't. Or, he hadn't. Spencer shrugged one shoulder and pushed a bit of food around his plate. When he looked up, he was surprised to find Gabriel watching him with an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. "Spencer," The use of his actual name had Spencer sitting up just a little straighter, despite the wince he gave at the movement. Gabriel noted it and his expression turned a little more serious. "I know you don't like the idea of grace touching you, but…I think I might know what's going on. I just, can't confirm it without my grace touching yours."

There was no way Spencer could stop that instinctive flinch that he gave.

Could he trust him? So far, Gabriel hadn't hurt him. He'd helped him just as he'd promised he would. He was giving Spencer control with each passing day. He hadn't pushed for them to do anything that made Spencer uncomfortable and he'd been respectful of every single boundary that Spencer put up. But had that all been a ruse? A trick of some sort to get him complacent? Spencer had tried to think about this every way possible when he was lying in bed at night. What would Gabriel hope to gain here? What could his possible ulterior motives be? So far, Spencer hadn't found any. And he couldn't really find any now. There was nothing that he could see that Gabriel would gain from this. He'd already taught Spencer how to shield himself and hide his grace. If the archangel tried anything, Spencer could always try that. It might not work but it was worth a try. But, really, he already had Spencer here on is island, away from anyone. If he wanted to do something to Spencer he could've just forced it on him already instead of waiting days and then using a backache as an excuse to trick him.

The young genius looked up at him carefully and found Gabriel still watching him. He'd given Spencer plenty of time to think and hadn't interrupted his thoughts.

Spencer hoped he wasn't about to make a giant mistake. However, trust had to start somewhere, and the pain in his back was getting steadily worse. If it was something Gabriel could help with, Spencer would be a fool not to take him up on it. "Okay." His voice was whisper soft. Gabriel heard him, though. He always seemed to hear him.

The archangel rose from his chair and moved to stand behind Spencer. He must've been able to see how tense he was because he was extremely gentle as he laid his hand between Spencer's shoulder blades. "I'll keep this as light as possible, kiddo. Just, breathe for me and let me know if I'm hurting you." The next moment there was the feel of Gabriel's grace reaching for him _through_ his hand and into Spencer's back.

What startled Spencer the most was how much his own grace leapt into that touch. Only by sheer force of will did Spencer keep his grace from trying to wrap around Gabriel's like some weird equivalent of a hug, if two lights could even manage to hug, that is. He held himself still and paid close attention as he felt Gabriel's grace press all along his back like a warm, soothing waterfall. The touch was only brief. There for just a few moments and then pulling back. Spencer was stunned to find himself almost reaching out to try and draw it back. It had felt, wonderful. Amazing. _Like home_ , a traitorous voice in his head whispered.

The whole thing took not even a minute. Then Gabriel was moving back around him and dropping back into his chair. His eyes fixed right on Spencer's face and there was a smile on his lips. An honest one, without any trace of mockery. "Well, I was right." His smile grew a little wider. "Your wings are growing in."

"My…my _wings_?" Was he serious? Was he actually being serious here, or was this some sort of prank of his?

"Yep!" Seeing the look on Spencer's face, Gabriel chuckled. "Don't look so gobsmacked, little bird. You're a fledgling. It's what fledglings do – they grow. We would've seen em before now if we were back home. But since you're in a vessel, they're all tucked and hidden inside, just a-growing away. Your backache is because your body can feel the growth in grace and it's being pushed at from the inside."

That was, vaguely disturbing. And a bit worrisome. Spencer's mind whirled as he processed the fact that he was going to have _wings_. Wings! Would they be like Gabriel's and Castiel's, visible only to him and other angels? Would he be able to hide them the way that Gabriel did? Most importantly – how on earth were they going to get out? If his wings were growing and pushing against his back, causing his backache, that meant that they couldn't just pass through his skin on their own. So how were they going to get out? Eyes wide, he asked Gabriel just that.

The trickster didn't even bat an eye, didn't show any outward signs of worry, though Spencer watched him carefully. He looked just as calm and amused as before as he answered him. "Don't worry. By the time they're ready to come out, I'll help you. You really think I'd just leave you alone for it?" He grinned and leaned forward, picking up his own fork again. "I'd say another couple weeks. A month, maybe. Then we'll get to bust those bad boys out. Then we'll start the really fun lessons – _flying_."

Spencer found a soft smile curving his own lips at that. What kid didn't at one point dream about being able to fly?

"Hopefully you have more grace in your wings than you do on two feet." Gabriel teased him.

The young genius didn't think about his response. He reacted the same as he would've if it were Derek here teasing him. Rolling his eyes, he kicked out lightly, meaning to just nudge Gabriel's leg as he told him "Shut up." Unfortunately, he had the absolute worst kind of luck and the world seemed to want to help prove Gabriel's point. He overshot his kick a little and the only thing that kept him from tumbling out of his chair was the hand that Gabriel shot out, catching his shoulder and keeping him from pitching forward.

The musical sound of Gabriel's laughter echoed around them. Even as Spencer blushed in embarrassment, he couldn't help the small smile.

* * *

It wasn't just Spencer who was enjoying their time together. For Gabriel, it was an amazing time as well. This was the closest to home that Gabriel had felt in a long, long time. Longer than humans could measure. He'd been cut off from his family for so long now, going deep to hide from them, that this little touch of home was the most amazing thing for him. It also brought a long for home that was almost overwhelming.

This little fledgling, so eager to learn and so utterly sweet, made his grace ache sometimes. It reminded the lost archangel of the home he'd once had and the life he'd once lived. It hadn't all been bad. There'd been good there. For a while, they'd been happy. Heaven had once been the paradise that it was still referred to as. There'd been glory and beauty and so much love. They'd been a family in the truest sense of the word and Gabriel had been happy. Until it had all broken apart.

Seeing Spencer now, watching him learn and grow and flourish under all this, coming into himself, was a reminder of that better time. Having that reminder was hard at some times.

What was even worse was looking at this little, eager fledgling and knowing what was to come.

Gabriel wasn't a fool. He'd known what it meant from the instant that he'd really looked at Spencer and figured out what he was. So far he'd managed to push those thoughts to the back of his mind and pretend that they didn't exist. They were drifting up to him now, though, and refusing to be ignored. He knew what Spencer's existence heralded. What it meant for them now, for the Apocalypse, but more importantly – what it meant for their future.

The archangel let out a sigh and shook his head, trying to chase away those thoughts once more. _One problem at a time_. The rest could be dealt with when the apocalypse was over. Right now, he had to figure out how to deal with _this_ problem. Or, more accurately, he had to work up the courage to deal with it. He knew what he had to do. What he didn't know was if it was going to work.

The heaviness of his thoughts was part of what had brought him out here to the porch of his island home. Spencer was inside probably still finishing off the dinner that Gabriel had sent him in for a while ago.

They'd been here for five days now and they were getting along a lot better than when they'd started but Spencer was still hesitant and careful around him. Gabriel hadn't wanted to push his luck with the kid and worry him by forcing him to deal with the worry that had settled on Gabriel's shoulders. So, when their lessons were done, he'd sent Spencer in to eat alone instead of joining him, and he'd stayed out here to think and, well, sulk. That's what he'd been doing for almost an hour now. Perched on the top step of the stairs that led down to the sand, he'd just been sitting here and thinking as he stared out blindly at the water.

He was still lost in thought when he felt the glow of Spencer's grace, a presence he'd grown so accustomed to sensing, start to come his way. A moment later he heard the kid's footsteps. There was hesitance easy to hear in every single step and it was almost coming off the kid in waves. But he came right outside and, after just a small pause, he moved to sit down on the stairs as well. It didn't escape Gabriel's notice that he took a seat two steps below, putting him just slightly lower than the archangel. Whether that was deliberate or instinctive, he wasn't quite sure.

For a little bit neither one of them said anything. The only sounds were the wind and the crashing of the water on the shore. However, as Gabriel discreetly watched the little one beside him, he could see the debate on Spencer's face, the way he drew his bottom lip in between his teeth as if thinking carefully about what he was going to say. It reminded Gabriel abruptly of a slightly nervous Jor, back when his son had been small and young and they'd used to sit together and talk. Jor would do the same exact thing as Spencer was doing now, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried to find the words or the courage to say what he wanted. Unlike Jor, Spencer didn't relax, though. He just grew more tense. Apparently Gabriel wasn't the only one who'd been doing some thinking tonight. Spencer looked like he'd done some deep thinking. Figuring out what was going on would've been easy. A simple peek inside the kid's head. Gabriel tried not to do that, though. He wanted to give Spencer some semblance of privacy.

It took a few before Gabriel could feel as Spencer's resolve to speak firmed. He stopped chewing on his lip but the lines of his body stayed tense as he stared down at his hands. "We…we need to talk, Gabriel."

"Well that doesn't sound ominous at all." Gabriel said dryly. "What's up, buttercup?"

The nickname had Spencer wrinkling his nose in a way that Gabriel was tempted to tease him about. It made him look years younger and ridiculously adorable. But then Spencer opened his mouth and Gabriel was too busy being stunned by the words that came pouring out. "I've been thinking and, things…things need to change. We can't keep going on like this. I appreciate so much what you're teaching me, Gabriel, but I can't, this isn't… we can't keep going like this. The part of me that's a profiler says that I absolutely shouldn't trust you. I know all the facts and statistics about Stockholm Syndrome and I know how easily all of that could be applied to our situation."

Eyebrows rising, Gabriel sat back, not quite sure what to say except, "Wow."

He watched the little fledgling flinch. Still, Spencer didn't turn towards him. "I'm sorry. But you, you have to understand the parallels here. You've taken me somewhere isolated and set yourself up as my only point of contact. I have to rely on you for food, for shelter, for anything that I might need. I can't even go to the store to pick up my own deodorant. If I want it, I have to get it from you. Then, you give me most everything I could want, and you show me how to use these powers of mine. You've effectively made yourself the one positive, steady thing in my life at the moment, and that's an effective way to force a trust that might not have otherwise formed."

That was…he hadn't really thought of it like that. The idea that the kid might really think he'd done this intentionally, as a way to force a trust between them, left Gabriel feeling vaguely sick. "That wasn't my intention, Spencer."

Brown eyes flicked up to him at the sound of his name, not a nickname, and then dropped back down. Then he nodded, ever so slightly. "I think I'm beginning to believe that. And that terrifies me, because I don't know if that's really me, or if that's all of those things I mentioned making me feel that way. There's something about you…my light—my grace…" he corrected himself, still so new to using that name for what had always just been a 'light' to him, "…wants to reach out to you. It always wants to reach out to you, all the time. You get close and I just, I want to trust. I want to lean on you and trust like I never have with anyone else. And that's so terrifying, Gabriel."

The fact that life had taught him that leaning on something was a scary or bad thing was one of those things that made Gabriel seethe. As he got to know Spencer he got to see more and more just how badly damaged the little fledgling was. How broken his trust was – not just in Gabriel, but in anyone. "There's nothing wrong with leaning on someone." That was a lesson he wanted to teach him, even if it was one that the archangel had a hard time remembering himself sometimes.

"I don't think I'd even know how." Spencer admitted quietly, which was so damn heartbreaking. The kid drew in a shaky breath and blew it back out, his shoulders squaring once more under a weight he shouldn't have to carry. "If we want whatever this thing we've got going here to work out, this friendship or mentorship or whatever it is, we need to be able to trust each other." He turned to look at Gabriel and for the first time he kept his gaze steady and didn't flinch away from eye contact. "I can't stay here, Gabriel. I need to go back."

Well. It'd taken longer than Gabriel thought for the kid to finally say it. "I know."

That clearly surprised him. "W-What?"

"I never planned on keeping you here, kiddo. I always planned on taking you back. Like I said, you're not a prisoner. I won't hold you hostage here. Besides," He slanted Spencer a look and smirked at him. "If I've learned anything about you these couple days, it's that you're not the type to just sit on the sidelines. Something tells me you wanna go look those chuckleheads back up and join on Team Freedom's bandwagon." No matter how much the idea had Gabriel wanting to wrap up his fledgling and keep him locked away. He didn't want to take Spencer back around the Winchesters. Hell, he didn't want to take Spencer back into the real world. He wanted to keep him here, safe, where nothing could touch him. Not the Winchesters, not the idiots in Spencer's life who'd already hurt him, not the apocalypse, not the dark threat that sat on the distant horizon…He just wanted him safe.

Speaking of the Winchesters never failed to cause some kind of reaction. This time was no different. Gabriel watched Spencer's grace draw in a little and a shiver ran down the kid at the memories that assaulted him. He had an angel's memory even if he hadn't realized it. Eidetic, he called it, the human term for it. For Gabriel it was just how angels worked. They remembered everything. Over time, enough of it builds up that sometimes it takes a bit to remember something you know, but it's all there, all accessible. Spencer had that. He had the memory and he had the ability to hold it all without going truly insane. Those memories could hurt, though. Just like these ones did.

One of Gabriel's wings reached out before he could stop it and it curled lightly around the little fledgling just like he would've done for any other fledgling back home. It was a testament to how far they'd come in just these few days in that Spencer didn't flinch or pull away. For one brief moment he actually leaned _into_ the wing. His grace calmed in response to the gentle soothing.

Spencer lifted a hand and brushed light fingers over some of the feathers in front of him. In response, Gabriel curled the wing a little more, draping it over Spencer's shoulder and down into his lap. He was rewarded with a delighted little shy smile. He continued to card his fingers through Gabriel's feathers in a gesture that was more self-soothing than anything else. "I may not be happy with the Winchesters, but…I can't just, I can't sit back knowing that I can help. I can't hide out here while people are out there dying and know that there's something I could be doing about it."

"You're too good, Sparrow." Gabriel murmured. He saw Spencer was about to protest and he used the wing around him to nudge him quiet. "Calm down. I'm not taking back what I said or anything like that. I said I'd take you back, and I will. But I've got a few conditions to it, kiddo."

He couldn't deny it was painful to watch the walls immediately slam up in Spencer's eyes. "Oh?"

Gabriel tried to keep his tone light as he lifted a hand up and ticked off his conditions. "One, we take a few more days just so I can be sure you've really got things under control before we unleash you on the general populace. You're nowhere near trained and we're definitely gonna have to keep working on it, every day, but I just want to make sure you've got control enough to make it each day."

"Okay." Spencer nodded his agreement easily to that.

"Two, you let me know if you start having troubles."

He wasn't going to budge on that one, not in the least, and Spencer must've been able to see that because he nodded to that one rather quickly as well. "All right."

"And three." This was the one he knew Spencer might not like too much. "I have a talk with the Terrible Trio before you go anywhere near them." Sure enough, Spencer tensed up at that, mouth opening in immediate protest. Gabriel cut him off before he could say anything. "That one's non-negotiable, kiddo. They screwed up, bad. Even if it was simple ignorance, they still screwed up, and I won't let it happen again. They need to learn their lesson before I'll feel safe letting you back around them."

He could see how much Spencer wanted to bristle at the 'letting' part of that statement. However, he held it back and focused instead on a different part. "What kind of lesson?" He'd heard enough stories from Gabriel these past days to know that the word lesson hadn't been an accidental choice. It had been very, very deliberate.

There was more of the Trickster to his grin in that moment than archangel. "Don't worry, it won't kill them."

"That's not entirely reassuring."

"They're going to get their lesson either way, bucko." Gabriel folded his arms over his chest and smirked at him, one eyebrow up in a look that dared Spencer to contradict him on this. "I'm mostly just giving you the heads up that it's going to happen before you go back around them, in the honor of trust here. If you don't like it—sorry. This is one I aint budging on."

Spencer watched him for a moment with a small frown on his lips and a furrow in his brow. Whatever he saw on Gabriel's face or in his body or wing language had him shaking his head. "Not that I have much choice in the matter, but, I'll accept your terms." Then he shot Gabriel a look through his bangs that held just a hint of the sass that Gabriel had so far only seen a small hint of. "You have a lot to learn about compromise, though."

A grin stretched Gabriel's lips. "Kiddo, you've got no idea how big a deal it is I compromised even this much."

To his surprise and delight, the fledgling let out a low laugh at that.

They settled in together a little more peacefully than before. Now that things were out in the open between them, and they both understood what was going on, they could both relax just the slightest bit.

Gabriel knew this was only the calm before the storm. There was so much that was waiting ahead of them. So many things that were coming their way. His eyes drifted to the young one that was slowly leaning into his wing, his weight getting a little heavier as his grace, soothed and comforted by the embrace of an archangel, pushed him towards sleep. _I'll do everything I can to keep you safe_ , Gabriel promised silently.

He just hoped it was a promise he'd be able to keep.


	10. Lessons Learned Part 1

_You'll recognize the start of this from Changing Channels. Just the set up is the same, though, an a bit of dialogue. The rest is mine_

* * *

For almost a week Sam and Dean tried to figure out anything that might lead them to how Spencer had been taken from the panic room. The kid had been brought their by them, put under _their_ protection, and somehow they'd managed to lose him. That was bad enough. What made it worse was knowing that whatever had taken him was strong enough to slip in past all the wards on the property, past the wards on the panic room itself, and actually take him out of there. What on earth had that kind of strength?

There was one thing that they could think of, but neither one wanted to. It was, quite frankly, terrifying.

"Besides," Dean said, his tone clearly one of someone grasping at straws. "If Lucifer was gonna sneak in and kidnap anyone, don't you think he'd try going for _you_ , not the kid?"

As far as reassuring things went, that fell pretty far from the mark.

But there was only so long they could devote to trying to hunt down their renegade nephilim. Finding him was important – it was extremely important – but there was still an apocalypse they had to stop. If Spencer really had been taken by Lucifer, there really wasn't anything that they could do, nor was there any way they could stop whatever Lucifer would use him to do. Castiel was insistent that they had no idea the amount of sheer power Spencer would be able to command if he put his mind to it. The only thing they could do was keep hunting, keep looking for Spencer, keep trying to stop the apocalypse any way they could, and hope to a God that wasn't listening that the world didn't explode.

Bobby was in agreement with them and sent them out on the first case he could find. Privately, Sam wondered if maybe the older hunter just wanted his home and privacy back for a little while.

That was how they ended in Wellington, Ohio, at the local police station investigating the death of a local man who had, it would seem, his head ripped off.

The officers weren't exactly pleased with the presence of 'FBI agents' on their case. That was kind of normal, Sam had learned over the years, and he didn't let it bother him. Though sometimes it could get just a bit annoying. Especially in moments like right now as the police officer looked him over with an expression that show pretty clearly what he thought of them in their fancy suits. "Once more time," The man said, annoyance vibrating over his voice. "…the FBI is here, why, exactly?"

"Might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off." Dean said, tactful as ever.

The officer looked like he was doing everything he could not to roll his eyes at them. "Bill Randolph died from a bear attack."

A bear attack. Sam exchanged a brief look with his brother. They were pretty used to civilians making up excuses for the supernatural things that they came across but, wow, that was quite a stretch for this case. "How sure are you that it was a bear?" Sam couldn't resist asking.

That earned him a strange look. "What else would it be?"

"Well, whatever it was it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom." Dean said dryly. "Is that common, a bear doing all that?"

The officer shrugged. "Depends how pissed off it is, I guess." He must've seen something on their faces because he sighed and his voice suddenly attempted to sound placating, though he really just came off as patronizing. "Look, the Randolphs live way up in high country. You got trout runs to make a grown man weep. And bears."

"Right." Sam said. They weren't going to get anything else out of this guy. "Now, what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing."

"Yes, she did. My heart goes out to that poor woman."

Dean arched an eyebrow at the officer. "She said bear."

There was a brief moment of hesitation. "Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She's confused."

"What did she say?" Sam asked.

* * *

The Hulk.

This woman thought her husband had been killed… by the Hulk.

Sam would've laughed at it if he hadn't gone out to the house to take a look. What he found there – he'd seen some strange things in his time and this was definitely going on the list.

* * *

Dean was sitting with the laptop when Sam came in the door. He looked up at him as he came in. "Hey. Find anything?"

Shutting the door behind him, Sam made his way over towards the table where his brother was sitting. He didn't bother joining him, though, he just stood there and looked down at him. "Well, uh, I saw the house."

"And?"

A half-laugh slipped out and Sam sort of wanted to shake his head. He knew how Dean was going to react to this. "And there is a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be. Almost like, uh…"

"…a Hulk-sized hole." Dean finished for him.

"Maybe." Nodding his head towards the laptop, Sam asked "What do you got?"

"Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper. He's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions." He looked up and Sam knew what was going to come out of his mouth before the older Winchester even said it. He knew Dean's sense of humor far too well. Sure enough, the older Winchester chuckled and grinned at him with that stupid little boy smirk he got when he thought he was being funny. "You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry."

Ignoring his brother's rather special sense of humor, Sam let things roll through his mind. He was slowly starting to get an idea here. "So a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead." Oh…oh, _hell_. "Kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it?" He ignored Dean's snort and shook his head as the pieces of the puzzle in his mind clicked into place. "It's all starting to make sense."

"How is it starting to make sense?" Dean demanded.

"Well, I found something else at the crime scene." From his pocket, Sam pulled out a bunch of crumpled up candy wrappers and let them drop to the table. "Candy wrappers. Lots of them."

Sam walked away and started to pull off his coat as he listened to his brother slowly piece together what Sam had realized. "Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill 'em—we're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?" Dean pushed up to his feet and turned so that he could face Sam.

"Sure looks like it." Setting down his coat, Sam looked back at his brother.

"Good. I've wanted to gank that mother since Mystery Spot."

For a second Sam hesitated, not quite sure what to say or what to do. He knew what he wanted to do but he also knew that Dean wasn't going to like it. Still, he had to try. This was the end of the world they were talking about here. He couldn't afford to let his worries over upsetting his brother get in the way. He'd already upset Dean plenty enough. What was a little more for the greater good? "You sure?"

"Yeah I'm sure." Dean said immediately, tone and face both saying a clear 'what the hell, Sam?'

"No, I mean are you sure you wanna kill him?"

That definitely had Dean's attention. "Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me a thousand times."

Memories flashed in Sam's mind and he had to fight not to shudder. Even if he could look back on that time now and see it clearer, clear enough to know what it was that the Trickster had been trying to do, it didn't take away from the nightmares that he still had sometimes. Mystery Spot had taken Sam's greatest fears and laid them right out there in front of him. Not just Dean's multiple deaths, but the months that never were, the time without his brother that had given him his first glimpse into the kind of monster that he could really be without Dean at his side. Sometimes Sam thought he could hate the Trickster for showing him that part of himself. Sometimes he thought he hated himself more for not listening while he still had the chance.

Pushing back the memories, Sam had to fight to keep his voice steady and his expression clear; that was in the past. "No, I know, I mean, I'm just saying…"

"What are you saying?" Dean cut in. "If you don't want to kill him, then what?"

"Talk to him?"

His brother looked like Sam had slapped him. "What?"

"Think about it, Dean." Sam said, spreading his hands out in entreaty. He needed Dean to hear him on this. "He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met. Maybe we can use him."

"For what?" Dean demanded.

Was he serious? Sam understood that Dean didn't like the guy, though personally the younger Winchester thought it might be because the two were just a little too alike, but couldn't Dean see past that just for a moment? Sam tapered down his annoyance and put on his best convincing voice that he had. "Okay, Trickster's like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song—maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates this angels-and-demons stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us."

Dean stared at him. "You're serious." He said slowly.

"Yeah."

"Ally with the Trickster."

He tried not to flinch. "Yeah."

"A bloody, violent monster, and you wanna be Facebook friends with him?" A sneer curled his lip. "Nice, Sammy."

He refused to rise to the bait. Holding his ground, Sam met his brother's eyes. He wasn't going to let Dean pick an argument and distract him from this. "The world is gonna end, Dean. We don't have the luxury of a moral stand. Look, I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all. If it doesn't work, we'll kill him."

Sighing, Dean shook his head, and Sam knew he'd won. "How are we gonna find the guy, anyway?"

"Well, he never takes just one victim, right? He'll show." Once he did, they'd figure out some way to talk to him, to convince him to help them. They needed all the help they could get.

* * *

Sam's predictions proved true. It wasn't much later that they heard a call over the scanner that seemed to fit what they were waiting for. As soon as they heard the call to send everyone, that the officer couldn't even begin to describe what it was he was seeing, the two Winchesters armed themselves with regular weapons and their stakes, just to be safe, and they set out to the address on the scanner. They were as prepared as they could be to talk to the Trickster and to, if he wasn't willing to talk, try and deal with him. Not that any of their past attempts to take him out had proved effective so far.

Only, when they arrived at the warehouse, it was immediate right from the start that something was up. The two hunters climbed out of the impala and looked around the empty area with identical looks of suspicion. "There was a murder here, and there's no police cars?" Dean said slowly, eyes scanning around them. "There's _nobody_. How's that look to you?"

"Crappy." More than crappy. A bad feeling was building.

It didn't stop the two from getting their things from the trunk, though. They'd walked into crappy situations before – and into plenty of traps, which this admittedly had all the makings of. Their job made it kind of impossible for them to walk away from these things. Even if they weren't here to try and talk to the Trickster, they'd still have to go in. If he wouldn't help them, his tricks still had to be stopped. If they didn't handle it, who would? This was their job.

Armed with stakes and flashlights, the two made their way inside the warehouse.

What they found inside wasn't at all what they expected.

It was dark when they first went in, dark enough that they had to turn on their flashlights almost immediately, which made no sense because it was daylight outside. The bad feeling in Sam's stomach grew as his flashlight flicked on and he found himself staring at a place that most definitely wasn't the inside of a warehouse. It looked like…like a giant forest. Immediately he turned around, only to see that the door they'd just come through was gone. He turned himself to look at his brother, who was also looking around. "What the hell, dude. Where'd the door go?" Dean demanded. He looked at the trees all around them and then back at Sam. "What the hell?"

"I don't know." Sam said slowly.

"No, seriously – what the hell? Weren't we just in a warehouse?"

Reaching out, Sam waved his hand where the door _should_ have been and only came up with just air. There was nothing there. Nothing at all. So, this wasn't just an illusion then. Alternate dimension? Another loop like the one he'd set Sam in before? The thought of that made him feel a little sick. Unconsciously, he scooted just the slightest bit closer to his brother. It wasn't like he'd really be able to stop it if anything were to happen to Dean. The Trickster had proved that time and time again at the Mystery Spot. Nothing Sam had ever done had managed to save Dean. But the younger Winchester couldn't help the need to be close to Dean anyways. Even knowing he couldn't stop anything didn't keep him from wanting to try.

His brother wasn't blind. Dean noticed the way that Sam inched towards him and it only served to send his temper up even more. This bastard had screwed with Sam one too many times. The hell if Dean was going to let it happen again. "C'mon." He said, clapping a hand on Sam's shoulder to get his attention. He used his flashlight to point ahead to a break in the trees where it looked like a small path sat—the only one in sight. "I've got a feeling we're supposed to head that way."

"Probably." Sam agreed.

The two set off towards the trail together. There wasn't much else they could do. They were in the Trickster's world here, for whatever purpose he planned. Just standing around doing nothing wasn't going to get them anywhere.

If Sam walked in a way to make sure that he kept his big brother in sight, or if Dean stayed just a bit closer than normal, neither one of them commented on it. They both walked the trail with the thought that what was waiting at the end was most likely going to be something dangerous, and potentially insane. What they hadn't expected was for the trees to open up suddenly and reveal a rocky, sandy inlet bracketed by two giant cliffs, with ocean stretching out in the distance – and the Trickster sitting atop a giant rock right in the middle of the beach.

He'd set his stage here sort of perfectly. In an absent sort of way, Sam had to admire the being's sense of dramatics. His seat on the rock put him dead center on the beach, with the two cliffs coming out on either side to frame the horizon perfectly behind him, showcasing the crashing waves as well as the dark clouds that were building out over the ocean. It was a very well set up display that served to put Sam and Dean both even more on edge. That feeling only grew as the Trickster grinned broadly at them and flung his hands out to either side. "Winchesters! Welcome to my little island paradise! Do you like?" He drew his hands back in and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling free. "I made it just for you."

Sam kept careful watch on those hands. Most trouble was brought about by a snap of his fingers. Even if they were too far away to stop him, it was better to be prepared.

"Great, gorgeous." Dean answered him, his voice a low growl that clearly showed just how annoyed and fed up he already was. "Now how do we get out of here?"

"Leaving so soon?" One of the Trickster's hands came up to rest over his heart in a horribly faked expression of offense. "Deano! That hurts my feelings. I worked so hard on this for you."

 _Oh, yeah, that doesn't sound ominous at all_ , Sam thought to himself. He pushed back the worry and instead reached out and laid a hand on Dean's arm, a silent request to let him handle this. When his brother stayed quiet, Sam took a small step forward. "We aren't here to mess with you or anything like that. We just, we want to talk to you. We need your help."

The Trickster tapped a finger against his lips. "Hm, let me guess." Drawing his hand out, he pointed out towards them. "You two muttonheads broke the world, and you want _me_ to sweep up your mess."

"Please." Sam said. "Just five minutes. Hear us out."

For a moment the Trickster just looked at him and Sam hoped with everything he had that it meant the creature was actually thinking about what he said. Then his expression melted into that familiar smirk, the one that said he'd already caused trouble and was planning to cause so much more, and Sam braced himself for whatever was coming. But the Trickster didn't snap, didn't do anything. He just kept smirking as he told them "You know, I first started to set this up to show you bozos how to play your roles. I had this whole, awesome TV Land thing planned out. I mean, it was beautiful! But, then I realized there was a much more _important_ lesson for you to learn."

Sam and Dean shared a quick 'oh shit' look. "Oh yeah?" Dean said with as much false bravado as he could. "And what's that?"

The Trickster's smirk grew wider. Deliberately, he ignored Dean's question and he clapped his hands together. "I tell you what, boys. You manage to survive my little game, then we'll talk. Until then," He hopped up to his feet and spread his arms wide. "Welcome to Survivor: Trickster Edition! Hosted by none other than yours truly – Loki!" In a move that was far more graceful than Sam would've credited him with, the Trickster—Loki, it would seem—jumped down off the rock and landed nimbly on his feet. "Oh, but wait, we can't forget our special guest star!"

He snapped his fingers and the brothers both startled as Castiel came crashing into the sand between them. Dean immediately lunged forward. "Cas!"

Loki's grin was both amused and mocking. "Aw, how adorable. Glad you could join us, Cassie! I was hoping you'd be here. Good of you to follow along like the little stalker you are. It makes our casting complete. Now, the fun can begin." Taking a step back, the Trickster looked from one face to the next. Castiel and Dean were pushing up from the sand and Dean was drawing Castiel back, bringing him back towards Sam. When Loki snapped, they all startled, but nothing seemed to happen. At least, not that they noticed. But Loki was still smiling so it must've done something. "Let's see how well you three can play." The Trickster said. "You're in my own little reality, safe from pretty much everyone and everything. There's no escape, no rescue. You've got no tools, no weapons, no supplies – and no powers." The last bit he directed at Castiel, though both hunters startled. He'd taken Castiel's powers? When they turned back to Loki, the trickster just laughed. "Have fun!" he called out.

With a snap, he was gone.


	11. Lessons Learned Part 2

It took a few minutes after Loki was gone for Dean to finally run out of curses. The whole time he was running through his list of rather inventive curses, he was checking out Castiel, trying to make sure that the angel was okay. That was always priority one in Dean's books during a crappy situation. Make sure that those around him that he cared about were as safe as could be and okay. He'd already made sure, the instant that Loki had snapped, that Sam was still there and okay. At his brother's nod, he'd been free to check out their angel.

While Dean did that, Sam focused on the rest of it, his brain already working through what Loki had said and pairing it up with what he saw around him. It wasn't all that hard to figure out; Loki had been pretty clear about what he wanted them to do. _Survive._

Running his eyes over the beach, the tree line, and then out to the coast—and the storm that was getting bigger out there—the younger Winchester winced. "Crap."

Immediately Dean was looking over at him and bracing for trouble. "What?"

"He mentioned 'TV Land' and then called this Survivor: Trickster Edition." Sam said, turning back enough to look at the other two.

He saw as the same realization hit Dean. "Crap."

Living in motels meant that the two had watched plenty of TV's night time crap. The show Survivor had been one of the many they'd seen. They'd even argued once or twice over a couple beers about the stupid things the players on the show did and how they'd do them better. Apparently Loki was giving them the chance to do just that. "He said we've got no food, no supplies, and no powers." Sam reminded him.

The last part hit them both at the same time and they spun to look at Castiel, who was as stoic as ever. Nothing on his face gave away any emotion as he told them "I cannot reach my grace. I am, essentially, as human as either one of you at the moment." While his voice remained steady, there was a flicker in his eyes, just a small hint of something that said that he wasn't taking this anywhere near as easily as he was trying to pretend.

"Great." Dean growled out. "Freaking great. No mojo, no food, no shelter."

"And a storm coming in." Sam added, gesturing with one hand out towards the ocean. The clouds were getting darker by the minute out there and he had a feeling it wasn't his imagination that they looked to be getting closer. It seemed like something the Trickster would do. "We can bitch about the trickster later. Right now, we gotta find shelter before that thing hits."

This proved to be one of those rare times that Sam found himself actually thankful for some of the survival lessons that his Dad had taught them when they were kids. John Winchester hadn't just trained his boys to hunt monsters – he'd made sure to train them in every way possible. Part of that had involved going out into the woods and surviving on their own. John had always said they'd need to be able to hunt and track and survive if they were out in the woods after a Wendigo or something of the like. Later on, Bobby had taken those lessons and expanded on them. Before Bobby had been a Hunter, he'd been a regular hunter. He'd taught them a few more skills. Sam and Dean put all those skills to use now as they looked around them and tried to figure out how the hell they were going to make some sort of shelter for three before that storm hit.

"What've we got on us?" Dean asked.

The answer proved to be: surprisingly little. Sam understood now what that snap had been that had had Loki grinning. He'd taken every single weapon they carried on them. They still had their flashlights, only because those had been in their hands, but everything else was gone. "So basically we've got the clothes on our backs, two flashlights, and nothing else." Dean spat out. He glared off towards the rock Loki had been on before as if the Trickster was still there. "The little bastard."

"Growl later, Dean." Sam said, snapping his fingers to get his attention. "How the hell are we gonna make a shelter with…this?" He spread his hands wide to gesture around him.

Dean was looking around too, with just as critical an eye. "Against the rocks looks like our best bit. In there, under the trees. We should be able to rig up something."

Another look at the clouds had the brothers moving. They didn't really have time to waste.

* * *

They got damn lucky with their shelter and the both of them knew it. Dean and Castiel went to the left—because apparently it took the both of them to look—and Sam the right and they went alongside the tall rock walls that made up the cliffs on either side of the water, the things that created the little inlet they were in. They were looking for the best spot to work with to build their shelter. It was Dean who found one, hollering out to Sam. When the younger Winchester came over he saw what Dean was so excited about.

Just a little ways in from where the sand ended and the forest began there was just enough of a dip in the rocks here to make a half-cave sort of area. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing and wouldn't take too much to make serviceable. Sam couldn't help but think that it was intentionally there; this was a construct, after all. Loki had called it his own made up place. That meant that the things here were the things he _wanted_ to be here. So, he wasn't trying to kill them or anything. He must want them to survive this. He just didn't want to make it easy for them.

The storm was coming in faster and they weren't going to have time to do much. Dean was thinking the same thing. After another glance at the clouds, he told Sam "You go grab as much dry stuff as you can so we can try and get a fire. Cas and I are gonna move a few rocks and try and get some sort of wall set up here before that shit hits. We need to try and stay dry."

They just barely made it. By the time that Sam got back with plenty of things for a fire, Dean and Castiel had a little wall rigged up to hopefully help keep them dry. They'd pulled loose rocks over – apparently Castiel was still stronger than most humans – and had managed to stack them and use sticks and what looked like some kinds of ferns to make sure there were no cracks. It gave them a three sided home that would shelter them just enough that they might stay dry.

They got inside just as the first rain started to fall.

* * *

"I'm gonna kill him."

Sam tried not to roll his eyes as he heard his brother voice the same threat for the millionth time. The rain had been coming down hard for what felt like hours now and the three men were huddled together inside their little shelter in an attempt to stay as warm and dry as possible. They had their sticks and kindling and fuel all stacked as far back out of the way as possible, wrapped up in Sam's plaid over shirt to try and keep them dry, and the three of them sat in front of the pile while they waited for the rain to go down enough for them to try and figure out how to even start a fire. They'd sat down together, needing each other's body heat to stay warm.

By silent agreement, they stuck Castiel between them. The angel had been unusually quiet since this whole thing had started. He sat between them now bent in on himself with his arms wrapped around his waist in an attempt to get a little bit warmer. Sam felt sorry for him. The poor guy obviously wasn't coping well without his grace there. Though Sam didn't presume to know what that could feel like for him, he had eyes enough to see that it couldn't feel good. He'd told them earlier that he was essentially human and Sam could definitely see it. He seemed above the lesser things, like needing to use the bathroom, but…Angels didn't get cold. They didn't shiver. And they didn't get tired. Yet here Castiel was, shivering in the cold air, with his head resting against Dean's shoulder and his eyes at half-mast…and Dean wasn't pushing him off. It would've been sweet if it wasn't for the situation they were in.

However, Dean had complained almost the entire time about the Trickster and their situation; a steady stream of curses and grumbles, all directed against Loki. For the most part, Sam tried to ignore it. _Tried_ being the keyword here. There was only so much a person could take, though. "It's not like we haven't tried before." He felt the need to point out after hearing yet _another_ threat to kill Loki. "We've staked him a few times now and it hasn't worked. What makes you think it'll be any different this time?"

"Oh and I suppose you still wanna _recruit_ him." Dean said scathingly.

Before Sam could retaliate, or even come up with anything to say, Castiel shifted between them and spoke up for the first time in hours. "Stakes did not kill him?"

Dean shifted enough to be able to look at the angel on his shoulder – a thought that made Sam snort with laughter. "We've staked that little bastard a few times now and he's still kickin'." Dean said.

"Well, maybe." Sam wasn't quite so sure about that. "We've seen his ability to make illusions. Who's to say he hasn't just sent an illusion of himself to deal with us every time and just watched from the sidelines? It'd explain why the stakes never worked."

Dean opened his mouth like he was going to argue before snapping it shut again. The look on his face clearly said he hadn't thought of that. Not that Sam could blame him for that. Until Mystery Spot, Sam hadn't thought of it either. But he'd had plenty of time to think through things while he'd been hunting the trickster down during those long months that he'd been alone.

"I wondered if you chuckleheads would ever figure that out."

The sound of that voice was enough to have three heads snapping up. Sam really wasn't all that surprised to see Loki sitting just a few feet in front of them. The trickster was sitting in the rain, though it looked like the rain wasn't even touching him.

"Son of a bitch." Dean's furious growl echoed around them. He made as if to lunge forward, only to be stopped by Castiel's grip on his sleeve and Sam's arm flung out in front of him.

Loki laughed, low and delighted. "Better listen to your friends there, bucko. Wouldn't want to get all wet now, would we?"

Bracing himself, Sam kept his arm still and tried to keep his brother in place. "Dean! There's no point in it – he's not actually there. You'd just get soaked." And right now the only thing helping them stay warm was that they were all relatively dry.

"Didn't you three _just_ get through discussing this?" Loki asked, looking to Sam and smirking. He jerked his thumb towards Dean. "A bit slow, this one."

"Are you here to release us?" Castiel asked him, cutting off whatever Dean was about to growl out.

Loki laughed again. "Let you out? Where's the fun in that?"

"Then why are you here?" Sam asked. He slowly lowered his arm, sure that Dean was going to stay still, at least for now. He brought his hands back to his lap and fixed his eyes on the trickster in front of him. Best to keep him in sight at all times. "Are you here to, what – gloat?"

"No. Well… maybe. A little." His smirk grew a little wider. "I'm a bit proud here. You gotta admit, this is pretty awesome."

Thunder rumbled above them and the wind blew in just a bit of the rain that was coming down in torrents just outside their shelter. The trio leaned into one another and tried to keep their faces from getting wet. "Oh, yeah." Dean said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. " _Awesome_."

Seemingly unfazed by both the rain and by the death glares he was getting, the trickster snapped his fingers and a tray appeared in front of the three men. On it were a bunch of fruits and a plate of cheeseburgers. The tray was staying just as dry as Loki and was floating right in front of them in easy reach. "I'm here to offer you bozos dinner." Loki said, like it was simple and easy.

No one reached out for it. They didn't even have to look at one another to come to that agreement. Not only had they been raised way better than to take food from any sort of supernatural entity, they knew way better than to trust anything that might come from _Loki_ of all beings. "You really think we're that stupid?" Dean asked.

Loki's smirk turned just a bit devilish and he wiggled his eyebrows at them. "You really want me to answer that?" He leaned back and rested on his hands, leaving no print in the ground under him and reinforcing the image that he wasn't _actually_ here. "Take it, don't take it, it's no skin off my nose. Never let it be said I didn't offer."

"Why are you doing this?" Castiel's voice was hard and harsh, the Warrior-of-Heaven voice that still held some power to it, even with him shivering and mostly human. The deep, gravelly growl had been enough to make even Dean sit up straighter a time or two.

Loki didn't even bat an eye.

The trickster's grin turned just a shade condescending. "Aw, aren't you adorable? Even with no power you're still trying to protect your little humans. You're like the Little Angel that Could." The confusion on Castiel's face and the obvious fact that he didn't catch that reference _at all_ just made Loki chuckle. "Relax, bird-boy. I'm not after harming your boys. I'm helping keep you all _safe_." The way he said that last word, twisting it until it sounded like nothing more than a mockery, had Castiel sitting up straighter and scowling at him. The angel opened his mouth to say something only to have Loki talk right over top of him. "Have fun, boys!" With a snap, he and the tray were gone.

Quiet fell over their little cave. The three settled back in against one another, pressing just a little bit closer as a sudden gust of wind sent a chill through them.

"I'm gonna kill him." Dean grumbled again.

This time, no one corrected him.

* * *

The storm lasted most of the night. By morning, it was finally fading away, the rain slowing down to a drizzle before finally, _finally_ stopping. The sun came out and the clouds cleared away and they were able to step out of their cave and take a real look around.

Sometime during the night they'd come to the conclusion that they weren't going to be getting out of here anytime soon. They had no idea how to stop this, no idea how to actually kill the trickster especially if he was just sending illusions of himself in to them, and none of them knew any way to break out of whatever little pocket dimension they'd been dumped inside of. That meant they had to survive until they either figured out a way out, or they were let out. That meant they needed to take care of important things like food and fire.

Sam was put on fire detail, the skill he'd always been best at during his father's wilderness training, and Dean took Castiel with him to go take a look around and try to find some food.

With the help of the lens from his flashlight and a bit of the dry fuel that he'd gathered yesterday, Sam got them a fire going before his brother and his brother's angel made their way back to camp. When they showed up, Sam had a good blaze going. He looked up from adding a piece of kindling and caught sight of Dean first, followed by a rather…muddy Castiel. It took a lot of effort not to laugh aloud at the poor angel. "What…" Sam had to pause and clear his throat. It looked like Cas had taken a bath in a mud pit. The only clear part of his face was his eyes and a hastily wiped mouth. Forcing back the laugh, Sam straightened up and tried not to look as amused as he felt. "What happened?"

"I, slipped." Castiel answered.

Wiping a hand over his mouth to hide the smile that slipped out, Sam turned away briefly. "Luckily, it's a sunny day." He said before he turned back towards them. Dean was glaring at him like he knew that Sam had been laughing, which he probably did, but Castiel was still standing there looking rather pitiful and Sam couldn't find it in him to mock his friend. His voice softened a little and his face eased into a friendly smile. "Your pants don't look too bad, Cas. You should be able to just strip off your coat and shirts and go wash up your face in the water. One of us can help you wash your shirt and then Dean or I can give you one of our flannels to wear while your shirt dries out."

"I'll help." Dean volunteered immediately.

Sam didn't bother to turn away this time to hide his grin. "I bet you will."

The scowl that earned him was exactly what he'd been aiming for. The two moved down to the water and Sam shook his head. It looked like he was going to have to take a look of his own if they wanted anything to eat tonight.

* * *

How on earth could they be on an island with no food? There was nothing to be found out there. _Nothing_. There weren't even any fish in their inlet. No animals on the island, no fish, not even a single berry. Loki had made an island completely without food.

"That son of a bitch." Dean was absolutely furious. It wasn't the first time that he or Sam had gone without food, but his gaze kept slipping to Castiel, who was seated on a rock in his slacks and Dean's flannel looking far more debauched than Sam was really comfortable seeing. It wasn't just that he was wearing _Dean's_ shirt that gave him that look, though that definitely made it worse. It was more that Sam couldn't remember ever seeing the angel in anything but his suit, trench coat and that crooked tie. Just slacks and a shirt with his hair all slicked back and windblown made him look…human. Human and just a little breakable.

"We'll figure something out." Sam said. He had to be the voice of reason here. Dean was too angry and Castiel was too…they weren't quite sure what. He was quiet. All Sam could do was try and keep steady and calm and hope no one flipped out too much. "For now I think we gotta play along. He doesn't do anything without purpose, right? No matter what, he's always trying to teach people a lesson. We just need to figure out what kind of lesson he's trying to teach us."

"Before we starve."

Sam glared at his brother. "Real helpful, Dean."

The older Winchester shrugged. "Just saying, dude. He's not exactly known for being _friendly_."

"Rude." Loki called out, not sounding the least bit bothered by the assessment, really. They all spun to find him perched on the same rock he'd been on when they first arrived. The trickster grinned down at them. "Also, _hello?_ I did offer you food last night."

"Like we're gonna trust that!" Dean called out. He strode forward, planting himself at Sam's side and firmly between Castiel and Loki. "Now let us outta here! We don't have time for your stupid games."

"I think you've got plenty of time. In fact, I think you've got _all the time in the world_." Loki said, grinning at a joke that Sam would've expected from his brother. Really, end of the world jokes? _That's_ what they were sinking to here? Loki's amber eyes turned to him and he arched one eyebrow, expression amused. "Don't knock my jokes, Samster. When are we ever going to get the chance again to use all those fantastic 'end of the world' jokes that are just floating out there? Seize the moment, I say!"

Was this seriously his life? Sam blew out a breath and shook his head. "You're insane."

"Now you're getting it, kiddo."

"Why are you here this time?" Sam asked. "I doubt you're here to let us out – we haven't figured out whatever it is you want here. So, what? Another trick? A game? Going to make us compete in challenges for privileges?" He'd seen Survivor enough to know how it went. They had challenges where contestants could earn things like flint or food or such.

"Why on earth would I do that?" Loki asked. He looked puzzled by Sam's question.

"On Survivor they get to compete in challenges and earn things like flint or food."

"True." Loki conceded. Then he spread his hands out and grinned. "But this is the Trickster Edition, and when have I ever played fair? Besides, it's not like I'm actually starving you guys or anything like that. I'm offering you food. Whether you eat it or not is up to you. It's not like I'm being a bad guy and starving you or anything."

"You're just holding us hostage." Dean snapped.

Loki's grin grew a little wider. "True. But you're safe and fed. I made sure you've got some shelter and I gave you food. What else could you want?" With a snap of his fingers, he was gone again.


	12. Lessons Learned Part 3

A tray of food appeared by their camp that night. Loki didn't come with it this time but there was no doubt it was from him. Random trays of food didn't just appear for no reason.

They ignored it, just as they'd ignored the last ones. They also ignored the one that replaced it come morning time, no matter how appetizing it looked. However, they didn't have much choice on the bottles of water that he left with it. Drinking ocean water wasn't an option and there was nothing else around them. It was either drink the bottled water or drink nothing at all. So, much to Dean's annoyance, they drank the water.

"What the hell are we supposed to learn from this shit?" Dean demanded on their third day there. Three days of no real food and minimal sleep—crowding together around the fire and sleeping in shifts wasn't exactly a restful experience—had put the older Winchester in a hell of a mood. None of them were happy but Dean had always responded to things like this with anger. "Seriously! Are we sure he's not just dicking with us, trying to kill us slow?"

"All of his previous tricks you have told me of have been rather elaborate lessons." Castiel pointed out. He was cross-legged on the ground beside Dean, the lack of personal space even more noticeable between them than normal. "There is no reason to believe this is any different."

Across the fire from them, Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Damn but he needed a shower. "Let's look at what's happened so far."

"We got trapped on a deserted island with no supplies and no way to eat or drink except what he snaps up for us." Dean summarized.

"He blocked me from my grace." Castiel added in. He said it with just a slight quiver, one that had Dean leaning in ever so slightly towards them. None of them talked about it but it wasn't hard to see just how hard a time Castiel was having with this. He still hadn't shown any need for things like food or water like the Winchesters did, and Sam was pretty sure the guy hadn't had to go and find a natural bathroom like they had, but he was far more human in random ways than they'd ever seen him before.

"He said we have to survive but he's making it almost impossible. How long are we supposed to survive this stupid little 'game' of his?" Dean scrubbed a hand over his face in a show of annoyance and exhaustion both. "Is he doing it until he gets us to, what? Eat the food? I mean, lore says a lot about eating food given by a supernatural entity."

Something about all these little pieces kept nagging at Sam. There was something about this, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. "He keeps emphasizing that he's helping us. That we're safe. He's made a point to say it a few times, actually."

The beach went quiet for a moment. Sam saw his brother shift towards Castiel and he wondered if Dean even noticed he was doing it. The older Winchester looked lost in thought. For the first time he was really trying to push past the anger and _think_. "You don't think this is some corny lesson about how we're always safe if we've got each other and work together, do you?"

"No." Sam shook his head. That didn't feel right. It didn't fit with what Sam was getting from all this. "I don't…something about this seems almost, familiar, doesn't it?" He tilted his head and looked down at their fire without seeing it. "Let's just…this whole thing sucks, but he hasn't hurt us. Not really. He's just brought us here, apparently under the guise of teaching us something, and he's made sure we're safe while it happens."

"Safe from what?" Dean demanded.

It was those words that made everything click for Sam.

He didn't realize that his eyes had gone wide with realization. Sitting up a little straighter, he stared down at the fire in front of him and remembered an entirely different voice telling him

 _"Just until we can find a way to help get your powers under control so you can be safe."_

 _"Safe from what?" Spencer asked, finally looking up. Part of his mind was telling him how stupid it was to antagonize his kidnappers and how he needed to keep his calm and treat this like any other case. The other part of him, the part that ached and throbbed and screamed with every breath, that part just didn't care. "Safe from being kidnapped by someone who wants to find a way to control my supposed immense power and use it to win some war?"_

"Oh, shit." It made so much sense now. How the hell hadn't they seen it before? Sam lifted wide eyes to lock with his brother's across their fire. Dean had sat up at the look on Sam's face and he was watching him intently now. He knew his brother's tells. Castiel didn't, but he did know Dean and he recognized the intent way that Dean was watching Sam. Both sets of eyes were locked on the younger Winchester. "What is it, Sam?" Dean asked.

"I think I know what this is about."

"Care to share with the class, Einstein? Or you planning on just keeping it to yourself?"

For the moment he ignored Dean's snark. They were in a lot of trouble here if he was right. "Think about it, Dean. We were basically kidnapped, taken somewhere against our will by someone claiming they're going to keep us safe. We're offered trays of food we aren't eating by a guy we don't trust. Any of this sound familiar?"

Dean tilted his head a little and furrowed his brow in that way of his that said he was processing something. Then it was like the light went off and his whole face clearly said 'Oh!' before shifting to something more like a scowl. "Oh, hell. You think this is cause of the Doc?"

"I think he's trying to give us a taste of our own medicine." Sam said slowly. As if he hadn't already felt _horrible_ about that. What they'd done to Spencer – he had no excuse for it. The whole thing had been screwed from the moment they'd first lit that ring of fire around him and it'd only gone downhill from there. Sam found he couldn't even be mad about this anymore. If this was why Loki was teaching them a lesson, it was no less than they deserved. They'd wronged that kid in a lot of ways and both Winchesters knew it.

Seconds after Sam said that last line, a loud dinging sound filled the air, like the winning sound on a game show, and confetti rained down on them. "Bravo!" called out a voice that had gotten far too familiar. "Bravo, boys!"

None of them were surprised to see Loki suddenly seated off to the side of their fire. He wasn't perched up on his rock this time. Instead, he was seated on a piece of rock by their fire, like he'd pulled up his own seat. He seemed as at ease in these natural surroundings as he had in some of the fancier things Sam had seen him in when he'd hunted him. Then again, that made sense. Loki might like the finer things in life; it didn't mean that he wasn't connected to nature. As a pagan god, nature was a part of him, no matter what.

"What the hell, man?" Sitting up, and pulling away from Castiel a little in a way that sort of put him in front of their defenseless angel, Dean glared at the trickster without a hint of the fear most probably showed. "You did all this to show us that we screwed up with the kid? Cause, trust me, we already knew that."

With a shrug, Loki leaned back on his hands, his legs still crisscrossed under him. He was dressed casual in jeans, a t-shirt and that olive green jacket, a smug smirk curling his lips around the stick of a sucker. No one would guess just how dangerous he really was. Not until they looked at his eyes. For all his smirking and mocking, his eyes were hard and just a bit dangerous as they ran over the group. "Knowing and experiencing are two different things, bucko. I thought you guys should know what it feels like to be kidnapped by someone a lot stronger than you and shut up somewhere you've got no chance of escaping from, left alone and slowly starving to death."

"We tried to feed him!"

"I tried to feed you." Loki pointed out.

"Yeah, right. Like we were gonna trust you…" The way that Dean trailed off said he realized the implications of his words as he was saying them.

The trickster's grin was smug. Lifting one hand, he pulled out his sucker and pointed it at Dean. "Now you're getting it."

Castiel sat up a little straighter like he, too, was seeing the light on some things. "You're the one that facilitated his escape from the panic room." Almost immediately on the tails of that, Dean was glaring even harder and growling out "What did you do to him?"

"You think I hurt him?" Loki looked _offended_. Like the idea of him hurting Spencer was so ludicrous that he couldn't even believe they had the audacity to ask him.

"You expect us to think you, what, _helped_ him?"

"A lot more than you boys were. You almost killed him!"

"What're you talking about?" Sam asked. He tried to keep his voice calm; someone had to be in the midst of this. It didn't help when heated amber eyes snapped over to him and the trickster scowled. "Use that gigantor brain of yours, Sam-o. You shut him in a room warded against angels. Didn't you stop to think about the effect that might have on him?" Loki's attention turned abruptly to Castiel. "Tell me, Cassie boy, how's it feel being without your grace for three days? Feeling good? _Sane_?" He watched Castiel blanch back and chuckled darkly. There was nothing kind or easy about him now. He was all dark, sharp humor. "That's what I thought. Don't feel too great, does it? An I didn't take yours away like you did him. I just locked it up so you couldn't reach it. The wards you put that kid in, he had a great big empty spot inside where his grace should've been. Imagine how he felt. You imbeciles betrayed him, locked him up, and you _tortured_ him. You're damn straight I took him out of there!"

There was nothing Sam could say to that. It hit too hard, too deep, for him to even think of a response. The guilt he'd already carried over this just grew bigger. It'd been bad enough with what they'd known before. This? This made it so much worse. He felt sick to his stomach at the idea that they'd been torturing the kid without even realizing it.

Though he could see that Dean was just as affected by Loki's words, his brother was always better at pushing that kind of stuff down until later when he could drink away his feelings. For now, he just shoved them down and met Loki glare for glare. He wouldn't give in. His guilt would only make him look angrier. "What's it matter to you? I didn't think your kind were partial to angels or humans, let alone a mixed breed like the kid is."

"Don't presume to know what I am or what I care about, you insignificant little ant." Loki snarled. He straightened up in his seat and shock echoed around the fire as the light of the sun was briefly blocked out by the shadows of three great bit sets of wings. Thunder crashed above them and in the distance and a light both ancient and deadly lit up those amber eyes. "That _kid_ is under my protection now, so I suggest you watch how you talk about him."

Son of a bitch. Sam knew he was gaping and couldn't quite bring himself to stop. Those were…those were _wings_! That meant that the trickster was a—an angel!

Soft, so soft Sam almost didn't hear him, Castiel breathed out one word in a voice that echoed with awe and reverence. " _Gabriel_."

The shadow of wings vanished and Loki— _Gabriel!—_ seemed to diminish a little. No less powerful, but less threatening. His smirk was back in place as he slouched back down onto his hands. "Hey bro."

* * *

Oh this was way too good. Gabriel watched the flabbergasted looks of the three in front of him and his inner trickster crowed at such a perfect reveal to what he considered one of his best tricks of all. No one had ever suspected to find the archangel Gabriel hiding out as a _trickster_. Keeping his identity secret meant that he couldn't really go around telling anyone and watching their reactions. He'd always just enjoyed silently laughing at the idiots who had no idea who they were dealing with. But actually being able to reveal himself and watch how stupefied it made people—that was fun.

"You're _Gabriel_? The _archangel_?" Sam asked, his face stunned and, maybe, just a bit awed? It'd been a long time since anyone had looked at Gabriel quite like that and he preened a little under it. "Guilty." He answered Sam with a wink. "Been hiding out here on earth for a while." Slanting a look over at his brother, whose grace he had released even as he'd shown his own, he let his smile soft just a bit. "Long time no see, little bro. You've been busy. I heard you were the one that groped Dean tight and rose him from perdition."

"Dude!" Dean's whole face went red in an instant. It was kind of impressive. "Gripped, not groped!"

Gabriel smirked at him. "I saw the handprint, bucko. Trust me, groped is a _much_ better description."

The way that Castiel's wings shuffled in open embarrassment had Gabriel letting out a delighted laugh. He had a bone to pick with little Cassie, a _huge_ one, but for the moment there was no reason they couldn't at least have a warm moment in greeting.

"Gabriel." Castiel leaned forward, almost like he would physically push around Dean if it would get him closer to his brother. Though his hands didn't reach out, his wings fluttered like they wanted to and were being just barely held back. "Where have you been? We thought you dead."

"You know me, Cas. I never could take the fighting." The words were said as lightly as he could manage. There was an underlying air of bitterness that he had a feeling even the humans caught on to. The way that Castiel looked at him was all that mattered, though. He could see that his brother did understand. He and Castiel had been close enough and while he knew it had to have hurt his little brother for him to bail like that, he also knew that Castiel would understand. Even as a fledgling he'd always seen so much more than others. He'd seen how hard it was for Gabriel to be there. To be in the middle of all the fighting. While archangels were considered Heaven's greatest weapon, the ultimate in their warriors, it didn't mean that they reveled in fighting and bloodshed. Gabriel had done plenty over the years and it had always been hard on him. Father had told him it was one of his greatest traits – that the taking of a life should never be easy. For Gabriel it never had been. But fighting with his siblings was even harder. He wasn't built for that.

The painful trip down memory lane was interrupted by, no surprise, Dean. There was someone who needed to work on their self-control a little bit. "So, wait a second. You're saying that the trickster, this trickster, is an archangel? The archangel _Gabriel_?" He was looking at Castiel as he said this, apparently seeking confirmation in the seraph. When he got Castiel's nod, he only looked more incredulous. "And _he's_ the one that has the Doc?"

The Doc. Gabriel just resisted snorting at that.

"It is rather difficult to believe." Castiel said. His bright blue eyes were fixed on Gabriel and his wings were lifted, the confusion evident there as well as the protectiveness that the archangel doubted either Winchester realized Castiel felt. It showed to Gabriel in how each wing was stretched like they were going to snap into a shield around the boys. Well, mostly around Dean. Castiel was close enough to him that one wing was already lightly curled around him. Sam, across the fire from them, didn't get quite the same level of protection.

Gabriel shrugged one shoulder at him. "Believe it, don't believe it – that's no skin off my nose, bro. Fact is, he's with me. In fact," he paused to think for a moment, gauging the time differences between where he was to where Spencer was. A hint of a smile touched his lips. "He's probably still passed out. With his grace getting stronger, he probably doesn't _need_ the sleep, but he's still recovering right now." And Gabriel was still shielding him. Spencer's grace _was_ growing stronger the more that Gabriel trained him and the more he used it. In so many ways he was becoming more and more angel and less and less human. Honestly, Gabriel was pretty sure the kid could survive without the human things like sleep and food. He just wasn't quite sure how to bring that up with Spencer yet. Something told him it wouldn't go over well.

It wasn't hard for Gabriel to realize what the problem was that the others were having here. He'd sort of expected it one they got past the shock of who he was and realized what it meant. They still thought that Spencer was a nephilim and history didn't exactly paint Gabriel in a kind light when it came to the nephilim.

If this whole plan was going to work, he needed to make them understand that they were wrong. That meant it was going to be time for an explanation. But first… he knew his eyes were probably glowing just slightly with his temper when he looked at Castiel. "You've got a lot to make up for, little brother." Him more than anyone else.

Not surprisingly, Dean leapt to his defense. "He was just trying to help."

"You've got no idea what you're talking about, so why don't you close that yap of yours and let the big boys talk for a sec, hm?" A snap had a strip of duct tape appearing over Dean's mouth. Content with that, Gabriel turned back to Castiel and his expression sharpened once more. Behind him, unseen by the humans, his wings rose up in a display of temper. "You screwed up, bucko. I'm all for tricks but yours was cruel. You convinced a terrified fledgling that he could trust you to do something to keep him safe and then you used it against him and knocked him out and took him to a room and put up nephilim wards that cut him off from his grace and tortured him with the emptiness for _days_."

One word struck more than any other out of that speech. Gabriel watched Castiel's wings jerk back in stunned shock. " _Fledgling_?"

"Yeah, that's right. Brand spanking new—not even a whole year old yet. An he trusted you. Reached out to the very first grace he'd ever felt, trying to commune without even knowing what he was doing. And what did you do?" His words were sharper, with a bite that was pure Loki. Leaning forward, he jabbed a finger Castiel's direction. "You betrayed that. You taught him he couldn't trust an angel. That grace _hurts_." And oh, for that alone Gabriel could've kicked his brother's ass. He had to fight to keep his temper leashed here. No fledgling should be so scared of the touch of grace. Every time Spencer flinched back from it, every time he watched Gabriel hesitantly like he was waiting for the archangel to do something that he wouldn't be able to stop, it made Gabriel ache.

"Gabriel." The pain that throbbed in that single word had Gabriel reining in his temper some. He could see it in Castiel's wings, feel it in his grace, how sorry he was, how horrified. "I…I didn't know."

"I know you didn't. That's pretty much the only thing saving you right now."

"So wait," Sam said. He rested his arms on his folded legs and leaned forward, his expression one of someone who was trying to piece together a puzzle, or discovering new information. The man may have been raised a warrior; however, he was a scholar at heart. "I thought Spencer was a nephilim. What's a fledgling?"

That was the question Gabriel had known would come and one he'd prepared himself to answer. He knew there was a bit he was going to have to explain to these kids. They needed to understand. They needed to know what Spencer was because later, he was going to have to eventually explain to them what it would mean for their future. Not yet, of course. Later. Much, much later.

For now, he needed to make them understand what Spencer was. To do that, he also had to explain to them what a nephilim was. It'd help them understand the distinction.

The explanation wasn't going to be short, though. Gabriel lifted a hand and snapped his fingers and watched them startle as a tray appeared in front of each Winchester. "Eat up while I explain, kiddos. You're hungry and you've hopefully realized I'm not trying to bind you with _food_. You eat and I'll talk."

The two hunters shared a look and then looked to Castiel, waiting for his discreet nod before they turned back to their food. It was kind of cute, really, all this silent communication.

They started to eat and Gabriel settled down a little more comfortably. "All right. Let's see if I can explain this so your little mortal minds can understand. Nephilim are born from a human mom and an angel dad. When an angel inhabits a vessel, they saturate every inch of it—even their little swimmers." He chuckled when he saw Dean choke a little at that. Smirking, Gabriel held up a hand and wiggled it like a swimming fish. "So when those little swimmers start a'swimmin', they have a bit of grace in them. That grace is infused in every cell of the kid as it forms. By the time they're born, it's a part of them, their very own grace, made even stronger by their soul."

"Okay, we'll just skip over the gross part of that." Dean said. "What's that got to do with the kid not being a nephilim?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. Impatient brat. "Nephilim are half grace, half soul. It' a pretty even split between human and angel. This kid? He's got just enough soul to give him that touch of human, but I'd say he's about ninety percent grace. That makes him more angel than nephilim. He's growing _wings_ , even—nephilim don't do that."

"How does that happen?" Sam asked.

"I saw it once, way back when." Gabriel told them. "It's what happens when both vessels have an angel in them."

They all looked surprise, Castiel included. It was Sam who asked, "That can happen?"

Though they couldn't see it, Gabriel's wings shrugged a little, a silent resettling to push off the uncomfortable feeling that tried to settle over him. "Only deliberately. We've got complete control over our vessels. No angel in a female vessel would be fertilized unless she wanted to be."

"So, if his angel Mom apparently wanted him – where is she?" Dean asked.

Wasn't that the sixty four thousand dollar question? No answer that Gabriel had come up with so far had been a good one. He hadn't pursued it yet; doing that would mean going and hunting down Spencer's parents and invading their privacy in a way he didn't want to do with his relationship with Spencer still so fragile. The kid came first, before everything – facts included. Gabriel had to build that up first before he really started digging deeper. "Nowhere good." He finally answered. Gabriel ran his eyes over them and settled on the one he knew would understand this next sentence the most. "Best as I can figure, she Bound him before she left. That's why he didn't come into his powers until recently. He's had it locked away with nothing more than a bit of telekinesis leaking out until he died. Then the binds fell off and his grace kicked in and saved him, only now it was free. There was nothing holding it back anymore."

"She _Bound_ him?" Castiel repeated.

"What?" Dean asked, looking back and forth between the angels. "What's that mean?"

Castiel didn't look away from Gabriel as he answered. "It means that she locked down his grace in a cage inside so it could not grow. To bind an angel's grace is a war crime. No one dares do it. You're taking away what makes us who we are."

 _Or protecting them_. Gabriel kept that thought to himself. "We've been trying to make up for lost time. I've been teaching him since I took him out of there. He can keep himself hidden now and he's got a lot better control than he did before. He's a fast learner." That was an understatement. The kid was _smart_. Gabriel couldn't help but feel proud of that. "We talked, he and I, and he's ready to join up with the real world again. I agreed, on the condition that I got the chance to speak with you chuckleheads _before_ we put our lot in with Team Idiot here. Hence my amazing little lesson." There was no way he was going to let Spencer around them without making sure they understood things first.

"Spencer…wants to help us?" There was a hint of hesitation in Sam's voice like he couldn't quite believe what he was saying.

Looking at him, Gabriel could see the guilt oozing off of the kid and it made him want to wince a bit. As much as he felt that they all _should_ feel bad about this, there was a part of him that didn't really like seeing the already guilt infested Winchester taking on even more guilt. He didn't let himself show any remorse, though. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked. "Duh. Isn't that what I just said?" Rolling his eyes, he looked at Castiel. "How do you put up with this?"

"Then why do all this? Why put us through this first?" Dean demanded.

Heat and fire flashed in Gabriel's gaze. "I won't let you hurt him again. Try it and we'll work on our own, far away from you."

The older Winchester sneered at him. "Who says we even want your help?"

Castiel and Sam both looked at Dean, stunned. "Dean!" Sam exclaimed. He slanted a look over at Gabriel and then back to his brother. "He's an _archangel_. You wanna throw away having someone like that on our side?"

"He's a dick whose screwed with us over and over in a twisted attempt to 'help' instead of just coming right out and letting us know what's going on." Dean shot back.

Temper had Gabriel siting up a little straighter. Behind him, his wings pushed up, an open display of dominance and anger. Dean seemed to have that effect on him a lot. It was something he was going to have to learn to control if he was going to work with them. However, that didn't mean he'd ever take the conceited hunter's shit and he was going to make damn sure Dean understood that. "Listen here, you arrogant dick. I'm not here begging to be a part of your Team Freedom or whatever you decided to call it. Spencer wants to be here and that means you get me, too. You don't like it? Tough shit. I'm not like the rest of your little gang – you can't order me around."

Before he said or did something that he might later regret, Gabriel took a deep breath and drew his wings back in. Then he pushed up to his feet. It was kind of funny to watch how quickly the others scrambled up as well. For the moment Gabriel chose to ignore Dean; the hunter was only serving to piss him off. He instead focused on the hunter that he much preferred anyways. "We'll meet you at Singer's in two days. It shouldn't take you longer than that to get there. Then everyone should've cooled off enough and we can all discuss where we want to go from here." One corner of his mouth quirked up and he couldn't help how he softened just slightly. "Try not to get dead in that timeframe, Samoose. You're far too pretty for the corpse look."

A snap of the fingers and the hunters were back in the warehouse they'd started in and Gabriel was long gone.


	13. Time Stamp to Lessons Learned

This is a time stamp to "Lessons Learned" - a peek to what happened with Spencer while the boys were on Gabriel's deserted island

"Spencer takes a big step towards trusting the archangel and learns a little more about himself in the process."

* * *

 **Time Stamp: Nightmares and Phone Calls**

* * *

It was coming _._

 _He ran as fast as he could, his feet slapping against the hard ground in a beat that echoed the pounding of his heart. The sound was muffled slightly by the heavy fog that lay over the world around him. The air was thick and heavy and the sun long since gone. Only darkness remained. Even the moon was dim, the faint light it cast nothing more than a hint through the dark and death that was all around. Tendrils of that darkness crept out, reaching for him, curling towards his ankles to try and trip him, to catch him and hold him. Darkness behind and darkness ahead, blurring where he'd been and obscuring where he was going._

 _Still, he ran._

It was coming _._

 _There was no time to stop, no time to breathe, no time to do anything but_ run _. Run, one foot in front of the other, as fast as he could. His chest was heaving and his muscles screaming, and still he ran. Behind him, his wings whipped in the air, leaving a trail of feathers and blood. Battle wounds. Injuries taken to protect those he loved, those he held dearest. Injuries to show his success – and his failure._

 _The screech of a crow rent the air._

It was coming _._

 _Faster and faster he ran. Where, he didn't know, only that he had to go. He had to go there now. Leaping over the rocks, he sprinted up the pathway that appeared, up to the giant doors of the castle ahead and straight into the great hall. Once shining in its glory, now slick with blood. He stumbled and fell and righted himself and kept on running. Kept going, to the end of the hall and the cold stone stairs. Behind him, he heard the smoky laugh – closer._

It was coming _._

 _Up, up, up, faster and faster. He couldn't stop. Palms slapped against the wall as he took the corner so fast he almost fell. Where he landed, a smear of blood was left behind. His, theirs, it didn't matter anymore._

It was coming _._

 _The door slapped against the hard stone wall as he burst out onto the roof. The world opened up around him. The moon, the stars, almost blotted out by the thick dark that tried to smother and consume them all. The darkness climbed the great stone walls, creeping and oozing over the edge, twisting and curling all in a terrifying dance towards him. In the air he heard the sound of the crows, the howl of the wolf, and the screams of the dead. There would be no more running here. Bare feet slid over the ground as he finally stopped running. As he stood there in this place he'd seen so many times before. A place where he would make his stand. A place where he would fight for himself, for his family, for the world and all that surrounded it._

 _A place where he would die._

It was coming _._

 _His body was braced and his wings were lifted high. There was fear, stronger than anything he'd felt before, and rage. This would end – now._

 _Cool metal slipped into his hand. The weight of his sword rested there, both heavier and lighter than ever before. It was stained with the blood of those both innocent and not. Stained a thousand times over in a war he'd never wanted a part of and which had never given him any choice. One last time he would raise it. One last time he would wield it. He was ready._

It was coming _._

 _The door opened once more and the darkness seemed to part at the arrival of its master. From the shadows it stepped, a living nightmare made flesh, and the whole world held its breath in fear._

It was here _._

* * *

Spencer woke with a gasp, only long-time practice keeping his scream locked behind his teeth. Curled up as he'd been, his body fought to get free of the blankets, almost sending him flying off the bed when they wouldn't let him free. He finally got them off him and ended up sitting up on one hip, his hands pressed flat to the bed and his whole body shaking as he fought to get the terror under control. The light coming in from the skylight lit up his bed in a soft glow that wasn't quite enough to chase away the cold terror that his dream left behind.

It'd been months since he'd last had that dream. Spencer curled his fingers into the bedding and sucked in another heavy breath. His lungs felt like they were too tight, not getting the air he knew they were breathing in. It was the same every time. He'd been having this dream, and others like it, for as long as he could remember. Sometimes months would go past without it cropping up. Sometimes it hit him every single night for a week straight. There was no rhyme or reason behind them. His mother had always chalked it up to a brilliant mind and an overactive imagination. One psychologist Spencer had seen during college had told him that it was his own inner fears and demons manifesting all the things that he suppressed during the day.

Whatever it was, it was horrible. The nightmares left him feeling cold and shaky. When he was younger, he'd used to climb into his mother's bed and let her cradle him close and whisper to him that it wasn't real. As he got older, he'd learned to cope with it on his own.

It was embarrassing to admit just how much he wished he had a safe bed to crawl into right now with someone who would tell him it was all going to be okay.

He remembered the last time he'd told anyone about a dream of his. That one hadn't even been as bad as this. All he'd told Derek was that he was having nightmares, nothing really in depth or detailed, and what had the man done? He'd turned around and spoken to Gideon behind Spencer's back. Sure, the senior profiler had helped him out in the end. Spencer wouldn't deny that. However, the fact of the matter remained that Spencer had told _Derek_. He hadn't asked him to talk to other people, hadn't wanted anyone else to know at all, really. He'd just wanted to tell someone he considered a friend and maybe get a bit of advice.

They'd gotten closer since then, he and Derek, but Spencer never forgot the lesson he learned that day. It was hard to truly trust someone when you had to worry that what you said to them was only going to be passed along to someone else.

The chill of that terrifying darkness washed over him once more, pulling him out of his thoughts and back towards the nightmare he could still feel sitting under his skin. He swore he could still feel as the cold, thick dark tried to curl around his ankle, tried to trip him up. He never knew what exactly that darkness was or why it was trying to stop him, only that if it did, the things it would do to him would be horror beyond any of his imaginings. A shudder ran down Spencer and he felt his grace shudder right along with him. A few things in his room rattled and shook in their places. Even the table moved a little with the release of his grace.

As he fought to get himself back under control, he heard a voice he hadn't expected to hear calling out something he couldn't understand. Was that really Gabriel? Spencer ignored the way his grace leapt up in what felt like relief. The last he knew Gabriel was still off 'teaching a lesson' to the Winchesters and keeping watch over what he was doing. He'd laid it all out for Spencer before going, and he'd warned him he'd be gone a few days at the very least. Having him show up now was rather surprising. But that was Gabriel's voice, calling out his name.

Spencer looked up as his door snapped open and the archangel stumbled in. For a moment Spencer wondered why he hadn't just flown in before Gabriel pressed up against something that couldn't be seen and Spencer realized that his grace was a bit more out of control than he'd noticed. It was pushing out, pushing things _back_. He fought to tug it back in.

It must've worked somewhat because Gabriel was no longer leaning against an invisible barrier. He was hurrying forward and straight towards him.

Much to Spencer's surprise, the trickster didn't stop when he got close. Without hesitation he scrambled up onto the bed and right over to Spencer. The surprises just kept coming as Gabriel gathered him up like he was a child. He ignored Spencer's initial flinch at physical contact and just pulled him in close, already shushing him in a way that Spencer hadn't heard since he was very, very small. Six huge wings curled protectively around them. At the same time, Spencer felt what had become a familiar sensation around him, one that he knew was Gabriel wrapping his grace in a protective shield around Spencer so his powers couldn't blaze out of control. It should've all felt confining and maybe even a bit smothering. Spencer was an adult, not a child. He knew how to deal with this all on his own.

Spencer opened his mouth to tell Gabriel all of that, only to end up mortified at the pathetic sounding _whimper_ that broke free.

"Shh, shh." Gabriel murmured soothingly, pulling Spencer in impossibly closer. "It's all right, baby bird. It was just a dream. You're safe now. Shh, shh."

The young fledgling found that he was actually _in_ Gabriel's lap now and not just pulled up to him. It was mortifying – he couldn't seem to pull away. He didn't even realize that he'd let go of the bed and grabbed hold of Gabriel's shirt until he looked down and saw his hands curled tight in fabric that was straining against the strength he'd found increasing with every day.

Under the protection of Gabriel's wings and grace and pressed in close to the warmth of his body, the chill and the fear that Spencer's dream had left in him were slowly fading away. It was that more than anything else that convinced Spencer that he could freak out about things later. Right here, right now, Gabriel was giving him something he never would've dared actually ask for, and Spencer was going to be selfish and stupid enough to take it.

His body compacted impossibly small as he curled his legs up and let himself lean in against Gabriel's chest. Immediately, the arms around him tightened. "That's it, kiddo. There you go. I got ya."

Another shudder ran down Spencer and shook the both of them with the force of it. In response, he felt the soft brush of Gabriel's wing stroke over his back. Closing his eyes, Spencer turned his face in against Gabriel's shirt and tried not to hate himself for being weak enough to need this. "S-Sorry."

"Shut up." Gabriel said fondly. He slid one hand up until he could slip his fingers into Spencer's hair. Then he started to scratch lightly at his scalp in a way that was immensely soothing. "I'm a big brother _and_ a father, kiddo. You're not the first person I've held after a nightmare – and you're not the oldest, either, before you go thinking that you're too old for this. So don't you apologize to me."

How could he argue with that? Especially when his grace wanted nothing more than to take the comfort being offered here. Caught up between the fear of his dream and the needy child inside of him that was screaming for this, Spencer did something he had so far not dared to do. He let go of his reservations and questions and fears and he trusted, not just in Gabriel, but in his own grace. He trusted the instincts that were begging to take over.

Curling up against the archangel, he let himself go.

Immediately his grace reached out for Gabriel's. He felt the archangel startle slightly, felt his stunned sort of joy, and then Gabriel's grace was reaching back. It wrapped around him the same as the arms and wings that already held him. It didn't dive in, didn't delve around, didn't press anything onto him. Gabriel simply used it to hold him and offer a wordless stream of warmth and protection. A promise of safety like nothing Spencer had ever known before.

He realized belatedly that he was crying. His cheeks were wet with it. Embarrassed, he curled in, body and grace. "I'm sorry."

Reassurance and affection pulsed from Gabriel's grace to his. At the same time, the trickster pressed what felt like a kiss against Spencer's hair. "I told you, you don't have to be."

"This just…" Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, his cheeks burning with his blush. "This isn't me. I don't, I don't act like this."

A firm hand caught his chin and Spencer found his head tilted up until he could meet serious amber eyes. There was no trace of Gabriel's usual humor there. In that moment, the archangel shone through the façade that he usually wore, and there was weight and years of wisdom behind his words. "Spencer, I know this is all confusing for you, but you gotta understand some things. Your body is an adult male human, but your grace, it's just a baby. Not even a year old. That doesn't just mean immature powers – it comes with its own set of instincts. You're basically a human adult and an angel child shoved into one body. You're gonna have to expect sometimes that your inner child is gonna show through. An I mean that literally. This, here? This is a bit of that. And there's not a damn thing you should be ashamed of."

He let go of Spencer's chin and didn't stop the fledgling from curling back into him again. Putting his hand back in Spencer's hair, he scratched at his scalp once more in that same, soothing gesture. "You wanna talk about it, kiddo?"

Quickly, Spencer shook his head. No, no, no, absolutely not. There was no way he wanted to try and put into words the fear that dream put in him. Just thinking about it made him shiver and press even closer to the archangel. He swore he could feel that dark chill reaching out for the light inside of him.

"Okay, okay." Gabriel said quickly. His grace curled around Spencer's and offered him protection and comfort. "We don't have to talk about it, little bird, don't worry. Why don't we try distraction instead? You been practicing your illusions like I showed you?" He paused and Spencer nodded against his chest. "Perfect. Okay, lay back here with me."

He didn't really give Spencer much of a choice. Twisting them around, Gabriel laid back on the bed and dragged Spencer down with him. They ended up lying side by side, with Spencer actually lying on top of Gabriel's left three wings and his head on the archangel's shoulder, that arm wrapped around him. The young genius was startled to find that not only were they the most comfortable thing he'd ever laid on, his weight didn't seem to bother Gabriel in the least bit.

Gabriel wiggled around until they were both comfortable. Then he used the arm he had around Spencer to give him a small squeeze. "All right. So, distraction. Make an illusion for me, kiddo. We can start with a simple picture like I did for you the other night. Think you can do it?"

When Gabriel had started to show him how to make illusions with his powers, he'd started them off on making simple pictures. Images that were as clear and flat as a photo. Later, he said, they'd work up to making full-fledged constructs like he could do. Making a picture had proved a lot easier than Spencer anticipated. He'd gotten quite good at that in his practicing. And Gabriel was right, doing this would force him to concentrate and it would definitely work as a distraction.

Spencer took a moment to breathe deep and try to center himself. He ignored the chill still in him and let the comfort of the archangel take away his fears. Then, drawing on what Gabriel had taught him, he focused his mind firmly on the image that he wanted, every single detail of it, before lifting his hand and giving a _snap_. The image appeared above them floating in the air in an almost perfect replica of the one Spencer had been thinking of. The only thing off was his background. It was still a little hazy. He'd focused too much on the people and not enough on everything else.

Curled up the way he still was, he easily felt it as Gabriel chuckled. The sound vibrated his chest and echoed through his wings. It also made his grace warm and curl. "Oh, man, those boys are gonna love you. Of all my habits to pick up…"

Spencer furrowed his brow and tipped his head enough to look up at him. "What?"

"I'm kind of known for my snapping." Gabriel explained, mirth dancing in his eyes and curling up his lips. "You've picked up my trademark move there, little bird."

Oh. Spencer's cheeks warmed and he dropped his head back down to Gabriel's shoulder so he wouldn't have to show his face. "It…helps. I can do it without – sort of – but the gesture seems to make it easier to focus my li—grace to do what I need it to."

"Oh trust me, kiddo, I know. We all learn little tricks to help us focus when we're little. Raphael used to flutter his middle wings each time he tried to do something. An Cassie used to blink. Every single time he did something, he blinked first. It was funny to watch." Gabriel chuckled and it was easy to tell this was a fond memory for him. "Ah, well, anyways, you did a great job here. Bit fuzzy in the back, but good. Friends of yours?"

This time it was Spencer who wore the fond smile. He didn't realize how everything about him, grace included, softened slightly. "That's my team." His friends – his family. "This is one of my favorite pictures of them. It's from, before." Before the drugs, before Georgia. Before his life had hit rock bottom and he'd tried to destroy everything.

"Tell me about them?"

The honest question earned an answer that Spencer might not have given any other time. Spencer was slowly relaxing more and more from his nightmare and he found himself surprisingly safe and comfortable here in a way he didn't know if he ever had been with anyone but his mom before. It was…nice. And there was a part of him that liked the idea of introducing Gabriel to his 'family'. It was part of why he'd picked this picture as his demonstration.

Lifting one hand, Spencer started on the right and slowly walked the archangel through his friends.

"That one there on the end is Aaron Hotchner. He and the guy next to him, Jason Gideon, are the ones that are in charge of our unit. I think officially, Hotch might be our actual 'boss', but he's not afraid to admit that Gideon has more experience in profiling than he does and so he defers to him in a lot of issues. He's not afraid to speak his mind, though. He comes off as serious and tough to everyone else but really, JJ calls him a 'marshmallow'. Hotch is…he's a good guy." He'd been willing to give Spencer a chance when a lot of other agents wouldn't have. He'd accepted Jason's request to have Spencer on their team and had worked to help make him fit in a place that wasn't really built for someone like him. Instead of forcing him to the mold, Aaron and Jason both had helped mold things around him until the spot fit Spencer.

"Gideon…" Spencer paused, thinking about how to describe his friend – his mentor. "He's the one that got me to the BAU. I attended a lecture of his and we got into a debate in class about a profile the local LAPD had been working on for a serial case they'd refused to call in assistance on. Gideon called me out right on the spot and asked if I'd ever thought of joining the Bureau."

"He seems like a good guy." Gabriel said.

Spencer smiled. "He is. He's mentored me since the day I came in, making sure that I got through the Academy okay and that I transitioned into the BAU without any serious troubles. Without him, I wouldn't be there."

"Who's the hot chick next to him?"

That made Spencer chuckle. He nudged at Gabriel with his shoulder, a silent rebuff, but he knew his smile could be heard in his voice. "Don't let her hear you talk like that. That's Emily Prentiss. She's still sort of what you might consider 'new' to us. She hasn't even been with us for a year yet. But she's smart and she's tough. Morgan says she's one of those women that can kick your ass and keep on smiling the whole time." It was a phrase that Derek had actually said _to her face_ and Emily had just laughed at him, just like Gabriel was laughing now. Smiling, Spencer sighed out a breath, unconsciously slipping in just a little closer against Gabriel's side. "Next to her is JJ. She's our media liaison."

"Media liaison?"

"She's the one that deals with the press. But really, she's so much more than that. She picks out our cases, presents them to the team, coordinates with local law enforcement for us, handles any press conferences…"

"So she pretty much takes care of everything so you guys only have to think about profiling." Gabriel said.

It was an accurate description. Spencer nodded his head against Gabriel's shoulder. "Yeah. We can all admit we'd be lost without her. She's good at her job and she…she cares. Even after all we've seen, she still cares. Sometimes more than is probably good for her. Sometimes I think she just sort of adopted all of us. Between her and Garcia, we've definitely got the mothering dynamic of our group taken care of." JJ acted like Spencer figured a big sister would act.

Gabriel's hand appeared in his line of vision, gesturing to the only female left in the picture. "I take it that gorgeous girl there is Garcia?"

"Penelope Garcia, our resident technical analyst." Spencer said, warm and fond. It was hard not to talk about Penelope without smiling. She just had that effect on people. "She's a hacker the FBI hired instead of arresting. She's bright, warm, funny," tiling his head, Spencer looked up at towards Gabriel and dryly finished "and she's worse with nicknames than you are."

He wasn't surprised at the way that made Gabriel smirk. "I think I like her already."

"I think she'd like you, too."

Settling back in, Spencer let his eyes drift closed a little as he moved on to the last person. He didn't have to look to give his descriptions. "The last one on the end there is Derek Morgan. He's…Morgan kind of comes off like the typical tough guy. Big, muscled, works out, used to play sports. But he's nothing like any jock I've ever met. He's been nice to me from pretty much the first day I joined. He picks on me but it's more, well, kind of like you. It's not hurtful or anything like that. And he makes sure no one else tries anything. He listens, too, and he lets me know when I start to ramble too long or too much. He's a good man."

"So are you and any of them…y'know?" Gabriel clicked his tongue in a strange sort of way and Spencer twisted just enough to be able to look at him, watching with confusion as the archangel wiggled his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?" Spencer asked. He had the strange feeling he was missing something here; sadly, that was a sensation he was sort of used to when it came to human interactions.

He watched a familiar play of emotions slide across Gabriel's face. It was the look everyone got when Spencer showed that, yet again, he didn't get the strange things that people did or said to one another. Only, instead of mocking him as most people did, Gabriel grinned broadly and let out a warm laugh that wasn't the least bit malicious. The arm around him squeezed him in close. "Oh, Dad help me, how on earth did an innocent thing like you get stuck with someone like me?" Gabriel asked. He didn't sound upset, though, and Spencer had a feeling the question was more rhetorical than anything else. Gabriel shook his head at him. "You can Cassie are gonna get along like crazy. You're too much alike. But I wouldn't have you guys any other way."

"Um…thank you?" He wasn't quite sure if that had been a compliment or not.

Gabriel shook his head again and chuckled. Then he gestured with his chin back up towards the photo. "So, how come you're not in the picture?"

"I was the one holding the camera." Spencer said slowly, still not quite sure what he'd missed. He watched Gabriel a second longer before deciding it wasn't worth pursuing. "I'm not all that fond of having my picture taken. Besides, I've always liked to take pictures." When he was once more resting comfortably, he looked up at his friends, taking them all in. God, he missed them. He'd been so horrible to them recently. After Georgia, everything had just gone to hell for him. The drugs Tobias had given him, the drugs he'd continued to take on his own, his behavior as he'd come off them – he'd put them through so much.

There was still a small part of him that was angry with them. They'd seen how far down he was sinking and none of them had said a word. Oh, he knew why they hadn't acknowledged the drugs he knew they knew about. They'd been trying to protect him and his job. What they didn't admit to, they could pretend not to know later. Acknowledging it made it real. But part of him wished they'd stepped up and said something. He wished he'd meant more to them than his job did. Still, "I wish I knew what the Winchesters did with my phone. If my dates are correct, my leave ends in two days. My team's going to be expecting me to return." What he was going to tell them, he had no idea. Sighing, Spencer let a little of his grace reach out and wipe away the image above them.

The largest of Gabriel's wings curled around Spencer like a soft blanket. At the same time, he heard a snap and suddenly he could see his messenger bag sitting on the other side of the bed. "There! One phone, along with a bag full of stuff. Now you can give them a call."

"What do I tell them?" Spencer asked quietly. "I can't exactly say I'm taking time off for the apocalypse."

He felt Gabriel's chest vibrate as he chuckled. "Yeah, I doubt that'd go over to well. I'm sure you'll figure out something, little bird. Just use that big ol brain of yours." His arm around Spencer moved and suddenly he ruffled Spencer's hair, laughing as the fledgling tried to duck away. When Spencer scowled at him, it only made him laugh even harder.

* * *

A few hours later Spencer sat on the front steps of the beach house with his cell phone in his hand. He and Gabriel had spent a little while longer hanging out in bed and talking together, practicing Spencer's illusions, before finally deciding to get up when Spencer decided he was hungry. Their time spent lying there had left Spencer just a bit embarrassed. It should've been awkward, or weird, or strange, but it hadn't. Spencer had felt more relaxed there than he could remember being – ever.

Maybe it really did have something to do with these instincts that Gabriel claimed his grace gave him. Spencer had felt like a child laying there in Gabriel's wings, their graces mingling together in what Gabriel had called a 'communion'. Apparently it was something angels did with each other back before the wars made everyone so secretive. It hadn't been some in depth sharing like the archangel said it could be, where they opened themselves up totally to one another. It was just a sharing of emotions and affection. It had felt…amazing.

However, that had been hours ago. Now Gabriel was gone once more, having apparently heard something from his little pocket world where he was holding the boys, and Spencer was left here staring at his phone and trying to figure out what he was going to say or do.

There were two voicemails on his phone. Before making any calls, he figured he should probably listen to those first.

He wasn't surprised that the first voice that played was JJ's. _"Hey, Spence. I know you're probably busy with your Mom an such, I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. Give me a call if you get the chance. If not, I guess I'll see you when you get home. Take care!"_ He found himself smiling as he listened to her familiar, friendly voice.

The next message was from Derek. " _Hey there, kid, it's Morgan. Listen, JJ's been getting a little worried with your radio silence the past few days. Is everything all right? Do I need to have Garcia track your phone so I can come out there and kick some ass?_ " That threat was pure Derek and Spencer laughed lowly. It was delivered in a teasing voice, though Spencer knew his friend would follow through with it if he really did feel it was warranted. _"Hopefully you're just having a good time. I wanna hear all about it when you get back!"_

Spencer felt a wave of homesickness wash over him. He looked down at his now silent phone and wished that he didn't have to do this. He wished there were any other options. Asking for more time off was going to be easy enough, he knew. Jason would grant it to him. The man had felt that Spencer wasn't taking _enough_ time when he'd planned this trip and he'd tried to convince Spencer to take more. But Spencer had no idea when he was going to be able to come back. This wasn't going to be just simply asking for time off. This was going to be him asking for an indefinite leave. There was no telling how long it would take for the apocalypse to be stopped and Spencer held no illusions about the safety of their endeavor. There was nothing that he could think of that was more dangerous than facing off against Heaven and Hell, Michael _and_ Lucifer.

The thought of not being able to see his friends and family again put a pit in the bottom of Spencer's stomach that made him feel nauseous. _This is the right thing to do_ , he told himself. _Everyone talks about how powerful I am, or will be. And the Winchesters seemed rather desperate. If my assistance can help to win this and save the world, how on earth can I walk away? I have to help. I have to try._

Taking a deep breath, Spencer looked back down at his phone again. Then, he dialed. It was time to get things taken care of. No matter how much it might hurt him to do this, or how much it might worry his friends, it was the right thing to do. The _only_ thing to do. He just wished for once that the right thing didn't hurt so much to do.


	14. Between Hope and Destruction Part 1

_It's time to try and stop the Apocalypse. Only, Gabriel has a plan no one expected, and the boys start to learn that there might be a bit more going on here than they thought. Age old truths are revealed as friends become enemies and enemies become friends._

* * *

 **Between Hope and Destruction:**

Two days after Gabriel's lesson to the Winchesters was done with, the archangel and his fledgling appeared in the kitchen of Bobby's rather quiet house. It was still early enough in the morning that no one was awake yet and Spencer was kind of glad about that. Just thinking of coming back to this house was enough to have him feeling tense. Actually arriving had only made that feeling worse.

He'd almost asked Gabriel if they could meet up somewhere else. If it hadn't made him feel weak just _thinking_ about it, he would've. But he wasn't going to admit to being that weak. He could handle a meeting here, so long as they didn't make him go downstairs. He wanted nowhere near that panic room. Gabriel had understood that without Spencer even having to say a word and he'd made him a promise before they left that he wouldn't have to go there. "There's absolutely no reason for you to be anywhere near that room." Gabriel had told him firmly. "You don't ever have to go past that basement door. An if someone tries to make you, for whatever reason, I'll handle it." The fierce way he'd said that, with grace in his eyes and his wings lifted up high and protective behind him, had eased some of the knot inside of Spencer. He was learning that Gabriel was someone who kept his word.

"Charming." Gabriel murmured as he looked around the kitchen that they'd landed in. His hand, which had been resting on Spencer's shoulder for their flight, slid down to rub lightly between his shoulder blades. A small sneer curled Gabriel's lip as he looked over Bobby's current table. It was big enough to hold two – maybe. "All right, kiddo. Time for a quick morning lesson. Let's see if you can make that table a little bigger and add a few chairs. There should be, hm…six of us, if Cassie shows up."

Spencer bit at his bottom lip and focused on the table. There were two ways to do this. Banish Bobby's table and replace it with one that Spencer conjured up, or expand on the one that was already there and only have to conjure up new chairs. The second option was the easier of the two and Gabriel was teaching him to always go the route that conserved his energy. No need to exhaust himself doing something that could be done in an easier way. Fixing the image he needed in his mind, Spencer focused and snapped.

The small table was suddenly longer and instead of one chair on each side there were three chairs on each side.

The hand between his shoulders came up to ruffle his hair and he ducked away, peeking over to find Gabriel grinning at him. "Good job."

Spencer flushed and smiled shyly. "Thank you." He wasn't quite used to someone who offered compliments as often as Gabriel did. Not even his team had ever complimented him this much. But each time Spencer did something right, Gabriel had a kind word or some sort of positive affirmation for him.

The two ended up sitting down on the side of the table near the living room, a room which Spencer very much wished he could break away and go look around in. The glimpse he'd taken before he got to his chair had showed quite a few books and there was nothing better suited to grab Spencer's interest. He made a mental note to drag Gabriel in there with him later and take a look around. For the moment he was content to let himself be tucked down into the chair by the window, neatly here in the corner with Gabriel as a perfect protective shield in the chair next to him, not only effectively blocking him off from whoever might come up but also offering easy access to slip past him to the living room if a quick escape proved necessary.

There was a part of Spencer that knew that thinking like that wasn't entirely healthy. Then again, he also knew that _he_ wasn't entirely healthy. He hadn't been for a while. Working at the Bureau made for a sort of hyper vigilant personality type. The fact that he'd been kidnapped twice in the past six months only fueled that. He could live with a little PTSD.

Gabriel's voice broke into Spencer's thoughts and pulled him back to the present moment. "Why don't you snap us up some coffee, Sparrow?"

A bit of concentration and a snap brought not only two cups of coffee into existence in front of them, but a carafe holding more on the table. Spencer reached out and curled his hands around his mug while slanting a slightly amused look over to Gabriel. "Are you sure you don't simply enjoy having someone do things for you?"

The teasing was something new, something he didn't really indulge in with many people. He did it with Derek now and again because they had years of friendship with one another that left Spencer comfortable enough to attempt to tease with him and not worry that it would get him mocked or hurt. Teasing with Gabriel was new, a small sign on just how comfortable he was finding himself with the archangel.

Grinning, Gabriel picked up his own cup and leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet up on the table. "Why, Spencer! What're you accusing me of?"

The mock innocence in his voice had Spencer rolling his eyes. The young genius was smiling, though. He hid it behind his cup as he took a sip of his coffee. Just as he was about to lower his cup and say something, he felt a weird sort of _twitch_ at the edge of his awareness. It was kind of like…like a flutter of a bird just at the edge of your sight, only, in his _mind_. The sensation had him sitting up a little straighter and furrowing his brow in confusion. What was that? "Gabriel?"

"What's up, kiddo?"

"What is that?" Tilting his head a little, Spencer turned his focus inwards, not really paying attention to the physical world around him. Because of that he missed the amused way that Gabriel was watching him. All of his focus was on that strange sensation in his head that was slowly getting clearer. A second later he answered his own question. The sensation shifted from this strange warm fluttering thing into something that he had definitely sensed before, though never this clearly. "Oh!" That was someone's mind! Thoughts and emotions all bundled together in this little ball that his mind neatly labeled as a person. Whoever this was, they were thinking a low grumble of complaints about morning aches and something about a _'stupid chair'_ , and it was all overlaid with something thick and dark and hurt.

The brush of feathers against his back and arm drew him out of his thoughts. He opened eyes he hadn't realized that he'd closed and found Gabriel watching him. The archangel lifted a finger and wagged it at him chidingly. "Quit snooping. Remember what I told you – I'm not shielding you all the way here. You're gonna have to start practicing blocking out other people's thoughts and emotions, at least somewhat. It shouldn't be too hard. You were already getting the hang of it before the Hardy Boys came along."

Spencer nodded and closed his eyes once more to try and focus himself. It took a few long minutes for him to get his shields in place. When he was done, the thoughts of the person he was hearing weren't gone but they were muted enough that he didn't really hear them if he didn't focus on it. "Does it ever really go away entirely?" He asked, opening his eyes once more.

"Nope." Gabriel said, far too cheerfully. "You get used to it, though. You'll barely notice it eventually. Well, except with some. Some people think just a little louder than others."

The sound of a shotgun being pumped broke into their conversation. "Who the hell are you and what're you doin' in my house?" A voice growled out at them.

Spencer had been so focused on blocking out the person's thoughts that he hadn't paid any attention to the fact that the man was getting closer to them. Gabriel, however, didn't even flinch. He turned and grinned over at the doorway where a man in a wheelchair sat. The man was older and slightly scruffy looking, dressed in blue jeans, a t-shirt and a blue flannel, with a trucker cap perched on his head. However, what caught Spencer's attention more than any of that was the amazing light that was shining inside of the man. _His soul_ , Spencer realized. _That's his soul._ Awe filled him. Gabriel had warned him that he was going to be able to start seeing this part of people. Nothing could've prepared him, though. This man had an amazing soul. It was low and warm, like a fire. Not blindingly bright like grace could be. No, this was more muted, yet no less amazing. Warm and steady and incredible.

If either man noticed Spencer's surprised staring, they didn't show it. The man was busy glaring at them; that look only intensified as his eyes landed on Gabriel. " _You_."

Smirking, Gabriel spread his hands out on either side of him. Out of sight of the human, his wings spread out as well. "Me!"

Ah, this must be Bobby Singer, the owner of the house. He definitely didn't look happy to see Gabriel here. Then again, considering their history that was no real surprise. Spencer had read all of the 'Winchester Gospels' that Gabriel had left for him and he'd heard Gabriel's version of events so he knew what had happened between them all. He knew that Bobby wasn't going to be thrilled to see the trickster. According to Gabriel, _no one_ was really going to be that happy to see him. He didn't seem all that broken up about it, either.

The gun stayed fixed on Gabriel for a moment. "We gonna have any trouble, trickster?"

"Why?" Gabriel asked, dropping his hands and arching his eyebrows. "What're you gonna do – shoot me?"

The sound Bobby made at that managed to be disgusted, annoyed and exasperated all at the same time. It was kind of impressive, really. Spencer watched the older Hunter lower his gun down to his lap. Then his attention suddenly moved off of Gabriel and over to Spencer. He softened a bit, the annoyed look melting away into something else that Spencer couldn't—wouldn't—read. "You must be Spencer." He still sounded gruff but it was without the growling edge that he'd had while talking to Gabriel.

Spencer nodded. "Mr. Singer, I presume?" No matter how nervous he felt, he still had manners.

That had the man snorting. "Just Bobby, kid." He gripped the wheels of his chair and rolled himself forward until he was at the opposite side of the table from them and no longer just hanging out in the doorway. "It's good to meet you face to face. I'm sorry we didn't get the chance last time." The man lifted his eyes and met Spencer's head on. Without any hesitation, he said "I owe you an even bigger apology for the hospitality you got last time you were here. If I could'a gotten down them stairs I would'a let you out. I'm sorry."

The apology stunned Spencer. He hadn't really expected one. Nor did he expect it from the man who was in a chair that presented him from going down the staircase to where Spencer had been held. He didn't blame Bobby at all. "You don't need to apologize, Mr. Singer. But thank you for saying it."

"I told you, kid, just Bobby. None of this Mr. Singer business."

"Good luck with that." Gabriel told him. He sipped off his coffee and shot Spencer a fond look. "He's too polite for his own good. He keeps trying to call me _Sir_." The way Gabriel shuddered, body and wings, had Spencer's lips twitching. The archangel shot him a mock scowl. "It's disgusting."

"I could think of much better things to call ya." Bobby interjected, glowering once more.

Gabriel flashed him a bright grin. "Well aren't you the flirty one."

The sound of Bobby's disgusted protests and Gabriel's laughter filled the kitchen. Spencer listened to the two start to bicker and he noticed the way that Bobby's soul lit up a little the more that he talked. It was like he _liked_ arguing with the trickster/archangel. Like bickering and arguing was fun for him. There was nothing sexual to it, nothing romantic, no matter how flirtatious Gabriel was making himself sound or how he was playing it up. Just a sense of amusement in the whole situation that was overlaid with an exasperation that Spencer suspected was a typical feeling for people when around Gabriel.

There was something else, though. Something that he hadn't noticed when he'd first seen Bobby's soul. Before, he'd been too stunned by the fact that he could see souls at all to really do more than notice the basics. Now that he was looking and watching the way the soul changed with emotions, the way it warmed or brightened, he thought he could see something else, something strange. He couldn't quite figure out what it was. Narrowing his eyes, he tilted his head and tried to get a better look. What was that? It was…odd. A little, dark, maybe? Different. Like it didn't quite belong.

"I got something on my face, kid?" Bobby asked, interrupting Spencer's thoughts.

Spencer's gaze snapped up and he found both men watching him. Realizing that he'd been caught staring, he blushed and ducked his head down quickly so that his hair fell in a screen in front of his face. "No, no. I'm sorry."

It looked like Bobby was going to let it go, though he was watching Spencer strangely – Gabriel, however, was not. "What's up, kiddo?"

"It's nothing." Spencer said, still a little uncomfortable. He looked up at Bobby again and then back down at his mug.

Beside him, he heard the sound of Gabriel's chair going flat again and his feet dropping down to the ground. A second later there was a hand between his shoulder blades in a touch that was becoming familiar whenever Gabriel wanted to offer comfort or support. "Spencer." He rubbed lightly, easing some of the ache that was always there in those muscles. "Relax, kiddo. What'd you see?"

He didn't sound annoyed or upset by what Spencer had been doing. Maybe it wasn't wrong, what he'd been doing. Maybe he could even help Spencer figure out what it was. Because there was something in Spencer that was insisting what he'd seen wasn't supposed to be there. Spencer chewed on his bottom lip and tried to find the words to describe this. "I…I'm not sure. I just, there's something there, something…not right. I, ah, I'm not sure. But it's, it doesn't feel right."

"Look a little closer at it, Sparrow. See if you can figure it out."

"Figure what out?" Bobby asked, looking nervous as Spencer's eyes came back up to look at him. Or, more accurately, _through_ him. The Hunter felt open and exposed under Spencer's stare. Uncomfortable, he glared at Gabriel. "What's going on?" He demanded.

"Something you'll appreciate." Gabriel smirked at Bobby and then winked. "Give him a second here, old man. I think he's about to show you a real neat parlor trick."

Spencer found that strangeness around the edge of Bobby's soul once more. He hesitated only briefly, not quite sure. Was this really okay? Bobby didn't look entirely comfortable. Didn't that mean that Spencer should stop? "Gabriel?"

"Go ahead, little bird. You're doing fine. I've got your back here an I promise, the old grump won't mind this little trick."

Spencer hesitated only a moment longer before reaching out to this strange thing that was sitting over Bobby. The more he focused on it, the clearer it became. It wasn't just a little bit of dark. It was this thin, dark thread, twisting around him. Not just his soul – his body. It just seemed anchored in his soul. Spencer followed the trail of it as it twisted through Bobby and into his body. Spencer anchored on Gabriel and then followed his instincts, reaching out to that strange thread that felt so very wrong.

He didn't know if he could find the words to describe what he did. It felt more like instinct than anything else. But whatever he did, the dark thread that was twisting around Bobby Singer vanished like it'd never been there.

When Spencer's gaze finally focused back in the physical world, he found Bobby watching him with a mixture of worry, annoyance and curiosity. "What's going on?" the hunter demanded. His eyes flicked back to Gabriel. "What'd he do?"

The sound of temper had Spencer leaning back without thinking about it. He tried to cover it up, grabbing his mug and acting like he'd just wanted to sit back and _not_ like he'd been pulling away from Bobby's anger. But the way that Gabriel's wing curled around the back of him to brush feathers over his arm on the other side told him that the archangel at least had noticed it. Of course, Gabriel didn't look bothered by any of this. He was still smirking at Bobby. "Calm down, Grumpy. You wanna know what he did – I suggest you try standing up."

Bobby looked like he'd been slapped. "What?"

His grin growing wider, Gabriel lifted up his free hand and snapped. The chair vanished and Bobby was standing in the middle of the kitchen looking at them with shock and awe. Wide eyes traveled from them down to his legs. "I can stand." His head tipped back up and the smile that lit his face was one Spencer knew he'd remember. It was blindingly bright, as was his soul. "I can stand!"

"Stand, walk, do the flamenco. The possibilities are endless."

Apparently Bobby was going to ignore the mocking end to Gabriel's words. Either he saw the same warm look that Spencer did, telling him that the archangel really was pleased despite his mockery, or he was too caught up in things to even care. Instead, he turned to look at Spencer with a look of such open gratitude it made the young genius squirm a little in his seat. "Thank you. I don't know how you did it, but thank you."

"I didn't really do anything." Spencer said, shrugging one shoulder and leaning into Gabriel's wing a little more. He wasn't used to people thanking him like this. Even on the team, the thanks they got usually went to the group as a whole, or to people like Derek or Aaron who were the ones to break in and rescue their victims. "I just, there was this weird, dark twisting sort of thread around you and I just sort of, untied it."

"That was Zachariah's work, binding Bobby so he couldn't heal." Gabriel supplied.

Bobby and Spencer both turned to look at him. "You knew?" The hunter asked.

"Yep." Gabriel took a sip off his coffee and smiled at them over the rim. "I thought I might undo it today, a little token of goodwill on my part, but then my little sparrow here recognized it and I figured it was a good time for a little practical lesson." He ruffled Spencer's hair then, earning him a scowl that just made him laugh.

"I thought angels had to touch someone to work their mojo like that." Bobby said.

Gabriel smiled but didn't answer.

Any further conversation was cut off when the two minds that Spencer had felt coming closer finally reached the room. Dean and Sam both stood in the doorway and stared directly at Bobby. Their shock was a palpable thing even with Spencer's shields up. He could feel how happy and stunned they both were. And he heard what he was pretty sure was Sam's thoughts, a shocked stream of _'Oh my God, he's walking, oh thank God, thank you!'_ just as clearly as he heard Dean say "Bobby?"

The wing around Spencer gave a little tug and scooted him in close enough that he and Gabriel actually pressed together. It was closer than Spencer usually ever allowed himself to be with anyone and yet it was comfortable. Easy. There was a trust and comfort between the two of them now after that little private moment the other day. Spencer had let his guard down after the nightmare he'd had and he'd trusted Gabriel, not just to take care of him, but with the very essence of himself, and Gabriel had done absolutely nothing to betray that trust. In fact, he'd gone above and beyond. He'd made Spencer feel _safe_ – and that was something he could rarely claim that he felt. It amazed him, still, how he'd only known the being beside him for such a short time and yet he felt so much trust for him. It scared him a little, for all the reasons that he'd already pointed out to Gabriel, and he hadn't been able to help but wonder how much it would change when they left their seclusion. He'd thought that maybe this weird comfortable feeling would fade a little when the man wasn't the center of his world anymore. But being back in this house only seemed to make him want to lean a little more towards the archangel.

The two watched the heartfelt scene unfolding in front of them as the three men laughed and embraced one another, with plenty of manly pats on the back and broad grins.

 _You did good, kiddo_. The warm sound of Gabriel's voice flowed through Spencer's head like a soft melody. It wasn't the first time that Gabriel had spoken to him directly inside his head. It still left him kind of awed, though. Because here in his mind, there was no human filter on Gabriel's voice. Gabriel had told him that because he was an angel, hearing the true voice and seeing the true forms of an angel was natural for him. When they spoke mind to mind, the archangel didn't have to alter his voice to keep Spencer's head from exploding like he would with a human. It was all, pure him, and Spencer loved it. Gabriel's true voice was beautiful.

He felt Gabriel's amusement. _Aw, thanks, little bird! Yours is pretty too._

 _You weren't supposed to hear that._ Spencer sent back.

Gabriel didn't rise to the bait that Spencer had thrown out there. Instead, he responded to what was underneath it, seeing beyond the façade. _It's gonna be fine. I'm right here with you and I'm not leaving you alone._ The wing around him gave a squeeze as if to remind him just how safe he really was. Sometimes it surprised Spencer just how much control Gabriel had over his wings. He liked to use the largest ones to wrap around them or to act in a protective or defensive way. The bottom, the smallest – though really, small was not a word for any of those wings – weren't used a lot it seemed. At least, not that he'd seen. But the middle or the top, the larger and largest, often wrapped around Spencer. The top ones he even used for things like smacking Spencer in the back of the head, or nudging him much in the way that Derek would sometimes shove his shoulder.

Much as Spencer would've been perfectly content hiding away there under the safety of Gabriel's wing, it didn't really take long before he became the center of attention once more, a thing he really could've lived without.

From what he knew of the brothers and what little he'd seen of them last time, it wasn't all that surprising that Sam was the one to step forward towards them. Spencer couldn't help the way his body tensed. He fought to keep everything else hidden. Every fear, every feeling of inadequacy and distrust and lingering nausea that swelled up in him, he shoved them far down. His body stayed as relaxed as he could make it and his chin lifted ever so slightly in a display he knew clearly said how little he liked being here.

If Sam noticed, and Spencer was willing to bet that he did, he didn't comment on it. He just looked at Spencer and offered him that same shy, slightly sad and slightly nervous smile he'd showed before when he would bring Spencer tray after tray of food, or when he'd take those same full trays away once more. "Spencer. It's really good to see you. You're…you look good."

"Thank you."

Dean took a step forward and Spencer's body immediately responded, leaning back in his chair. He covered it up as best he could by settling back and crossing his legs, acting as if he'd only been getting more comfortable. No one fell for it.

The gesture had Dean stopping and even wincing a little. There was a part of Spencer that felt sort of bad for that. Only a part, though. Then his whole body sort of stiffened and his shoulders went back in the pose of someone about to do something they didn't really want to do. Between his body language and the emotions rolling off of him, Spencer had a feeling he knew what it was. He also knew it was the very last thing he wanted to hear right now. So before Dean could say a word of the apology that Spencer knew was building on his lips, the young fledgling spoke up first and neatly turned the conversation to where it _should_ be. "Gabriel's helped me to catch up on everything that's happened and what exactly it is we're all facing here. I want to help. _We_ want to help."

Beside him, Gabriel snorted. "That's one way of putting it." He looked over the hunters and smirked at them. "You guys just gonna stand around or you wanna sit down and have our little pow-wow? Not to rush you or anything like that. I mean, it's not like it's the end of the world."

"Really, Gabriel?" Spencer murmured, looking over at him and shaking his head. At the same time, Dean and Bobby both made some sort of annoyed snorting sound, and Sam rolled his eyes. The youngest Winchester was the first to move, though. He came forward and took the chair that put him directly across from Spencer. Dean took the seat next to him and Bobby took the one on the end.

"Great!" Gabriel exclaimed. He held up one hand and snapped – a cup appeared in front of each hunter and a tray of fresh fruits like he'd been feeding Spencer lately was now sitting in the middle of the table. "All right, boys. Let's get this party started."

"Wait a second." Dean interrupted them. "We're missing someone." Even as he said it, he was pulling out a cell phone and pressing a couple buttons.

Gabriel made a choking sound as he watched Dean. When Spencer looked over, he found the archangel grinning broadly and not even bothering to hide his amusement. "You gave an angel a cellphone? No, wait, even better – you gave _Cassie_ a cellphone?"

"We needed a way to get in contact with him and to tell him how to find us. The sigils he put on our ribs keeps us hidden." Sam said.

"Hey, Cas." Dean's voice overrode the conversation and cut off whatever else might've been said. "Yeah, we're at Bobby's. You wanna wing on over so we can get this whole meeting started?"

The feel of something at the edge of his senses had Spencer looking up just in time to hear the sound of wings and watch as Castiel appeared at the end of the table. The humans all jumped at the suddenness of his arrival – but none so much as Spencer. The sight of Castiel had him jumping so badly he would've fallen right out of his chair if Gabriel's wing hadn't still been around him. One look at the angel and Spencer slammed his eyes shut on a shuddery gasp. Immediately he felt Gabriel moving and he heard a low " _Shit._ " The wing around him holding him close while a hand came up to cup his cheek. The coffee mug in Spencer's hands was taken away and then Gabriel's hand was curling over his. "Hey, little bird, it's all right. It's okay. Focus on me here, all right? Just listen to me." Then his voice changed and he was almost growling. "No, Cassie, stay _back_."

"What's going on?" Dean demanded at the same time that someone else, Bobby or Sam, was calling out "Spencer?"

"Quiet." Gabriel snapped at them all. Then his voice softened to that same sound that Spencer had heard after his nightmare, or when Gabriel was trying to figure out what was wrong with his back. The kind, gentle one that let Spencer know that he was okay and everything was all right. It was a tone that let him know he was safe. "Spencer, I need you to listen to me for a minute. I'm sorry I didn't think about this before, but I'm gonna fix this. You've got your sight dialed up a little too high, that's all. What you're seeing is just Cassie's true form. Well, as much as you can see with it all squished inside his vessel. We just gotta dial back your sight enough to tone that down."

Spencer pressed his face against Gabriel's hand. "Why can't I see that with you?"

"It wouldn't exactly be hiding if I let all my bits hang out." Gabriel pointed out in a tone of voice that told Spencer he was most likely smirking. "Now, words or grace?"

It was something he'd offered lately since Spencer had started to be comfortable with his grace. He could use words to tell Spencer what to do or use his grace to show him. Right now, Spencer didn't want to waste time with words. He reached a little of his grace out to the archangel and felt Gabriel respond immediately. It only took a second for him to get the information for what he needed to do, and another second after that for him to do it.

When he opened his eyes again he had to sigh a little with relief. He could still see Castiel's wings, as well as the light inside of him, but the form that he had glimpsed before wasn't there. It had been a beautiful thing to see, beautiful and yet a little terrifying, and Spencer was glad he didn't have to deal with it right now.

Castiel was watching him intently as Spencer looked at him. There was something in those bright blue eyes of his, eyes that were made even brighter by the grace Spencer could see sitting inside, that made the young fledgling want to squirm. "My apologies." Castiel said to him in that low, gravelly voice of his that was just as deep and just as rough as Spencer remembered. "It was not my intention to startle you."

Not his intention to startle him… Spencer had the strange urge to laugh at that. This was the being who had wanted him dead not that long ago. Yet now he was standing here apologizing for startling him.

As if sensing Spencer's thoughts, Gabriel patted his cheek and smiled at him. "You're all right, squirt." He dropped his hand back down and got comfortable once more, though his wing kept Spencer at his side. Without even bothering to explain anything to the humans, he gestured towards the end of the table by Castiel. "Have a seat, Cassie. We were just about to discuss how to cancel the apocalypse."

The humans all sat up a little straighter. "You have an idea?" Bobby asked, while Castiel took the chair on Gabriel's other side and stiffly sat down.

Gabriel grinned at them. "Yep. An if we're lucky, no one even has to die."


	15. Between Hope and Destruction Part 2

There was a part of Spencer that could admit it was kind of entertaining to watch the dumbfounded expressions on everyone's face at Gabriel's casual declaration. Sam looked sort of like someone had slapped him, Dean was staring blatantly with an expression between disbelief and something that might've been reluctant hope, and Bobby's attention was suddenly much sharper and focused directly on the trickster. Spencer could even see Castiel sitting up a little straighter on Gabriel's other side.

"You've really got a plan?" Sam asked him.

Spencer found it interesting how Gabriel seemed to soften ever so slightly when he looked over at Sam. His smirk was still in place, it just didn't hold the more dangerous edge to it that it did when he was looking at the others. "Would I lie to you, Samalam?" He opted for innocence, but the immediate snort that his response earned him from Dean had him giving up the innocent act and just outright grinning at them. "Okay, okay." He held up his hands like a gesture of peace and then leaned forward to set his mug on the table. He reached out and grabbed some of the fruit, which was on a kabob stick, and as he sat back he handed one stick to Spencer as well. "It's a pretty simple plan, really. Well, for you guys. A little more complicated for me."

The black wings on the other side of Gabriel shifted a little and Spencer could just barely see Castiel turn so that he was looking at Gabriel. "What are you planning, brother?"

The smile that Gabriel wore didn't seem quite right. There was a quality to it that had Spencer turning towards his guardian and watching him with worry. Even more worrisome was the way his wing around Spencer twitched and how his others seemed to deliberately settle with ease, like he was forcing them not to show what he was feeling. Everything about him screamed forced casualness to the fledgling. A second later, he understood why. Gabriel took a bite of the strawberry on the end of his kabob and spoke around the bit of food in his mouth. "I'm gonna give big bro a call and have a little chat. "

Everyone else looked a bit surprised, or slightly contemplative – Spencer, however, froze. Logically, he'd known that Gabriel was going to end up confronting his family at some point during all of this. He just hadn't really given that any deep thought yet. He hadn't really stopped to think about the implications of it. Gabriel had been in hiding for so long. Now, because Spencer wanted to be here with these people and because Gabriel wasn't going to leave the young fledgling he'd taken in, the trickster was going to be forced to reveal himself and be an archangel once more. He was going to blow his cover as Loki to the very people he'd spent so long hiding from. "Gabriel."

Amber eyes flicked over to him and they warmed, like melted honey. He reached his hand out and patted Spencer's legs. "It's fine, squirt. I knew it'd happen eventually. Can't hide forever, right? It'll be fine. Besides, talking with Mikey's the easy part. Shouldn't take too much to get him to back off."

"Getting him to back off is the _easy_ part?" Sam repeated, his voice incredulous.

"Sure." Shrugging, Gabriel took another bite of his fruit, making a little happy sound at the flavor. He eyed Spencer and waited a moment, his eyes flickering down to the fruit he'd handed him and then back up to his face. Spencer realized what he wanted and rolled his eyes. Still, he took a bite of the fruit, amused and a little bit embarrassed as Gabriel gave a pleased nod and turned back to the others before continuing on like he hadn't just waited for Spencer to eat like he was some toddler. "Mikey's the good son. He does what he thinks is right, what he believes Dad wants. It won't be hard to talk him down from this. It's not him we have to worry about – it's Luci. I don't think I'll be able to talk him down. I'll try, but I doubt it'll work. That means we gotta go in there with a backup plan to be able to take him down. That's where you mooks come in."

"You want us to take down the devil?" Bobby's voice was just a bit disbelieving. But he wasn't outright dismissing Gabriel's words, nor did he look as angry as Dean or as confused as Sam.

No matter how much Spencer was blocking, thoughts and emotions were still slipping in a bit. He could pick up the general impression of the room and, wow, that was something that was really going to take some adjusting to. From Sam there was a hesitant hope that was mixed in with all this guilt and fear in a cocktail that made Spencer's stomach roll a little. Dean felt exhausted and annoyed and mistrustful. There was guilt there, too, and temper – he really didn't like Gabriel. But Bobby, he was surprisingly not angry. The darkness that Spencer had felt on him earlier – _depression_ , his mind told him, _that had been depression_ – was faded now. His mind was sharp and it was already racing over everything that Gabriel was saying and trying to add it in to the information he already had. This was a man who was a lot smarter than he looked.

Glaring, Dean folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "How the hell are we supposed to take down _Satan_?"

"By locking him back in his cage."

Everyone sat up a little straighter at that. "You can do that?" Sam asked. That hesitant hope he was feeling got just a little bit stronger.

"We can." Gabriel agreed. "I'm not saying it'll be _easy_ , but it can be done. There are four keys to open up Luci's cage." He held up four fingers on his free hand. "Four keys – four rings. From the Horsemen."

The way that the Winchesters suddenly perked up was enough to have Gabriel falling silent and even Spencer paying a bit more attention. "We already have one!" Sam said quickly, his eyes lighting up and a half smile touching his lips. At the same time, Dean was reaching down into his coat pocket and pulling something out, laying it out on the table. Spencer gave a soft shiver when he saw the power radiating off the ring revealed under Dean's hand. That was a ring – from one of the _Horsemen_. One of the actual Horsemen of the Apocalypse. _Holy shit_. Would wonders never cease? Every time he thought he was getting settled in this new, strange world he'd found himself a part of, something new cropped up.

Gabriel let out a low whistle. "Well, well, well, aren't you two just surprising?" He reached out and scooped up the ring, pulling it in for a closer look. "You two actually went up against War and won?"

The power in the ring had Spencer leaning back just the slightest bit. It felt, heavy. Wrong. When Gabriel brought it close it felt like the air got just a bit thicker and there was this strange metallic taste on the back of Spencer's tongue. Unconsciously, he lifted his free hand and let his finger tangle in the feathers right next to him, seeking out comfort from that touch. It was a gesture he didn't even notice himself doing; nor did he notice the quick look it earned him from Gabriel. The archangel pressed his wing a little closer to give Spencer better access. It seemed to help, because Spencer found his voice, even if it did still carry a heavy note of disbelief. "You want us to track down the other Horsemen and get their rings from them?". When he got flashed a grin and a nod, he gave a small shake of his head. "You do realize how insane that sounds, correct?"

"That's sort of par for the course here." Dean gave a little half grin and shrugged. "You get used to it."

"I'm assuming that the Horsemen are actual people, so to speak?" Spencer looked to the Winchesters for the answer to this. "Or, at least, some physical embodiment of their name?"

Sam was the one to answer that. "War was a person, or a person-shaped-being. But he looked as human as you or I."

"Goes to show appearances can be deceiving." Gabriel said easily.

"They may appear human, but they are so much more." Castiel said, speaking up for the first time in a little while. The sound of his voice made Spencer draw back just a bit. He didn't pull away completely, though. This was someone he was going to have to work with and he had to get used to that. Forcing down his own discomfort, he turned to look at the angel as Castiel continued to speak. "They have great power and going against them will not be easy."

"The boys got lucky with War." Bobby said, ignoring the looks that earned him from the boys. "Can you actually kill Death, though?"

Scoffing, Gabriel tossed his now empty kabob stick onto the table. The ring seemed to have vanished – most likely into his pocket. "We don't kill Death. Once we get the others, I'll talk to him. He doesn't usually like to mess with anything outside his job but he's not gonna be all that fond of Luci running round free. That just leaves Pestilence and Famine for you guys to find."

"That's gonna be a lot of lore to sift through." Sam pointed out.

Beside him, his brother made a derisive noise. "Can we go back to the whole 'talk to Michael' part of things? Does no one but me have questions about that?"

"Seems to me like we should be worrying about the problems we're capable of handlin'." Bobby told him plainly. His eyes moved over to Gabriel, then Spencer, then back to Dean and Sam. "We've been avoiding the big guy so far, but if feathers over here thinks he can talk to his brother and get him and maybe even the God Squad to back off, what've we got to lose?"

"Yeah, and what if he decides to switch sides?" Dean shot back.

Though the question didn't seem to bother Gabriel in the slightest, judging by his relaxed smirk and the way he snapped himself up a candy bar and settled in like this was all some interesting show he was watching, but Spencer was surprised to find it did bother _him_. Before he could think of censoring himself, he found himself saying "You know, it seems rather to openly doubt and question someone who seems to have brought you the only plan your team has so far." All eyes turned to him and Spencer fought the urge not to draw back and duck his head. He made himself lift his chin ever so slightly, drawing on the support of the being beside him as well as years of practice at not letting officers, agents and Unsubs see when he was cowed. "Gabriel's brought you a plan and offered to help you with it – at great personal risk to himself. A little gratitude certainly wouldn't be amiss."

"Dude," Dean drawled out, hesitating only a second before shaking his head. "You've got no idea the things he's done to us. We've got plenty of reason not to trust him – believe me."

Spencer's eyebrows climbed up towards his hairline. "I was under the impression we were putting aside past transgressions for the sake of the greater good. Or, does that only work for you?"

From beside him he heard Gabriel let out a low " _Oh, snap_ " that Spencer chose to ignore. He was too busy staring down Dean Winchester and trying to somehow hold his own. The man had a glare that was worse than a pissed off Derek.

"Why don't we all take a breather?" Bobby interrupted them. He cast a glare at Dean that was very clearly a warning to keep quiet and then he looked back at the others. "We're all getting a little cranky. Let's take five, let this process for a bit."

Spencer was beyond grateful at the idea of a distraction. He ignored Dean, who pushed up from the table and marched out of the room, and instead focused on his host. A break sounded perfect and he knew just how he wanted to spend it – namely, anywhere but sitting in this uncomfortable room. "Mr. Singer?"

"Just Bobby, kid." Bobby reminded him.

"Of course." Spencer looked over at Gabriel, who gave a small, encouraging nod, and then back to Bobby. "Can I, um, I mean would it be all right if maybe I take a look at some of your books in there? Gabriel was telling me you have a rather extensive library and I'd love to be able to see some of it, especially if we're going to be researching."

"Of course. Come on in here."

Castiel was nudged out of the way and Gabriel rose up so that Spencer would be able to get past. He caught the fledgling as he made to move by him, one hand on his arm to hold him there for a moment. "You want me in there, kiddo?" he asked in a low murmur meant just for Spencer's ears.

The biggest part of Spencer wanted to say yes. He didn't want to be alone with anyone. Especially not in this house of all places. But he couldn't force Gabriel to stick with him all the time. Especially not since it sounded like they were going to be here rather frequently to do research and the like. He had to get over his fear and trust that he could either get himself out of any sort of trouble, or Gabriel would be able to get him out. Spencer drew in a semi shaky breath and then held it for a moment before letting it and his tension back out. "I'll be fine."

A warm brush of grace against his took away a little more of his tension. The sensation was still new to him, but it was oh-so-wonderful. He tentatively returned the gesture, eased by Gabriel's pleased smile. Without another word, the young genius followed Bobby into the living room and towards the treasure trove of books waiting there.

* * *

Gabriel watched Spencer go and felt a spurt of pride for the strength that existed in the core of the fledgling. Despite the fact that Spencer was afraid – terrified, really, straight down to his grace – he was still in there talking with Bobby, looking over his books, trying to do what needed to be done. He was keeping his chin up and facing his problems head on in a way that Gabriel himself hadn't always been able to do. It made him proud, and just a bit humbled.

He saw Castiel turn as if he was going to follow them in there and he quickly caught the seraph's arm to stop him. "Let them go." Much as he hated to see how Castiel drooped as he said this, Gabriel had to look out for his fledgling first. "He's not ready to talk to you quite yet."

Castiel's vessel didn't show any signs of his distress. His wings, however, lowered towards the ground in a sort of defeated posture. "I do not know how to begin to make amends." The angel said quietly.

Squeezing Castiel's arm, Gabriel tried to smile at him. "Give it time, kiddo. He'll come around. For now, why don't you go deal with your charge? I'm sure he could do with someone to vent to right about now."

When Castiel left to go hunt down Dean, it left Gabriel there in the kitchen with just Sam. Sam, who hadn't moved from his chair. The hunter was still sitting there, watching Gabriel with a bemused expression on his face. He was leaning back a little, hands folded over his stomach, just watching. One corner of his mouth quirked up. Seeing it, Gabriel arched an eyebrow at him. "What's that look for, Samsquatch?"

"It's like a whole new side of you I'm seeing here, Gabriel. All, nice and…protective. Kind of reminds me of Dean a little." Sam's voice was warm and easy, and just a bit teasing. It was surprising, really, considering if there was anyone in the group that Gabriel would've expected to be pissed off at him or to hate him, it would've been the younger Winchester. He was the one that had been the brunt of plenty of Gabriel's pranks and lessons over the years.

Gabriel wasn't going to question his luck, though. He'd always had a preference for Sam, and not just because of the delicious assets he possessed.

Dropping down into his chair once more, the trickster kicked back and put his feet up on the table. "First off, Sammo, don't compare me to your brother." He pulled a sucker out of his pocket and used it to point at Sam and emphasize that point. Then he drew the wrapper off and stuck it in his mouth only to grin around the stick. "I'm a helluva lot cooler than he is. Second of all, you do realize that I'm one of the Firstborn, right? That means that I have a metric shit-ton of baby siblings. An I always did enjoy playing with the fledglings."

"It's hard to picture, I guess. I'm more used to the Trickster. Still haven't quite managed to adjust to the idea that you're actually _Gabriel_."

Gabriel's grin grew. "Just means I'm even more awesome than you already knew, kid."

"Yeah." Sam said dryly. "Awesome. _That's_ the word I was looking for."

That had Gabriel letting out a warm laugh. He liked this side of Sam. The sassy side with that understated sense of humor that so rarely got a chance to peek through. Enjoying himself now, he winked at the hunter. "Psh. You know you can't resist all this." He heard something shift in Spencer's voice, a little lilt he was getting familiar with when the fledgling was uncomfortable, and shifted himself in his chair to better be able to watch Sam while still keeping an eye on Spencer. He could see that Spencer and Bobby stood near one of the bookcases. Bobby had a hand between them, like he'd tried to reach out to Spencer, and the kid was a little tense. Ah. Looked like Bobby must've tried to touch him. He probably should've given the others a heads up about that. For all that Spencer was starting to reach out to Gabriel, it was apparent his walls around others were still firmly up.

When Gabriel looked back at Sam, he found the hunter was watching him with a curious look on his face, like Gabriel was some sort of puzzle. "You really care about him."

The trickster would've shrugged it off. That part of him would never have admitted to having someone he cared about, someone who could be used against him, especially not to a _hunter_ – not even _this_ hunter. Gabriel, however, had no such qualms. "He's mine."

"Yours…?"

Sam looked stunned, eyes going wide. It wasn't hard to figure out what he was thinking. Rolling his eyes, Gabriel shook his head. "Not like that. I've got no idea which angels sired him. Don't matter, really. They didn't exactly stick around. But I've been the one training him. I took him in, kept him safe, put my protection on him. I've Claimed him." There was a connotation to that which Sam didn't understand. It didn't matter, though. He got his point across. Spencer was _his_. He'd protect that kid no matter what. Not just because of his future, either. The klutzy, absentminded, shy little fledgling had wormed his way into Gabriel's grace, right up against the core of him, just as much as any of his kids had.

"He's mine." Gabriel repeated lowly, eyes drifting back towards Spencer. The fledgling was talking now, low and rapid fire in that way he got when something really interested him. His face lost some of the stress lines that had been there lately and was lit with the joy of knowledge, of _sharing_ that knowledge. He was a scholar through and through. He wasn't a warrior. The idea that he was going to have to be was enough to have Gabriel wanting to wrap his wings around him tightly and not let go. Some of that showed in his voice. "An I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anything happen to him."


	16. Between Hope and Destruction Part 3

Planning to hunt down the Horsemen wasn't exactly something one could call 'easy'. Nor was it something that was going to happen overnight. First and foremost they had to research them and learn everything they could about them. Or, more accurately, how to stand a chance against them. Because Gabriel wasn't shy about warning them, "They're gonna be powerful. What you boys saw with War? That sounds more like he was in the mood to _play_. The others aren't gonna be as easy. Especially since you killed their brother."

"Great." Dean grumbled, eyeing the stack of books Bobby was pulling out. The way he looked at them made it clear he'd rather be anywhere but here.

Spencer, however, was perfectly content to seat himself on the chair that Gabriel snapped into existence for him. The archangel snapped him up a little table as well, which he then proceeded to help stack books onto. Spencer settled in without hesitation and pulled the first book off the stack. He only paused once, just long enough to look up at the archangel who was perching on his armrest. There was a question in his look that he knew Gabriel understood. Smiling, Gabriel reached out and ruffled his hair, chuckling as Spencer ducked away. "It's fine, kid. Geek out and read your books. I'll keep myself entertained."

The way that everyone suddenly looked a little cautious had Spencer smothering a chuckle. He apparently didn't know Gabriel as well as these people here did, it would seem, but even he knew him well enough to know that Gabriel keeping himself entertained wasn't exactly the safest thing.

Sam, who was sitting on the end of the couch closest to Spencer's conjured chair, looked up almost hesitantly at them. "Maybe…I could pick your brain a bit? See what kind of facts you have and compare it to what we know. I mean, you're probably our best resource here for the Horsemen."

"I can't say I know a ton about them, kiddo." Gabriel warned him. He shrugged one shoulder and shifted himself until he could lean against the back of the chair, one leg drawn up with his knee pointing in towards Spencer. Why he didn't just pull up his own seat, Spencer had no idea, and he didn't bother worrying about it. He just dove down into the book he held while Gabriel continued to talk. "I wasn't really involved with the Horsemen. Talked a bit with Death a time or two. Those kinds of things, they were more Mike and Luce's area, not mine. Though, Raffy…Raffy might know a bit about Pestilence. He was our healer, so it'd make sense. If things work out with Mike the way I hope, we could ask him for help."

Even though Spencer was looking at his book, he swore he could _feel_ the wince that went around the room. It was enough to have him looking up curiously. Sam and Dean were on the couch, neither one looking at them, and Castiel was by the desk turned away. Even Bobby looked a bit cautious.

"What?" Gabriel asked, his wings tensing a little behind him though his body stayed relaxed. "What is it?"

"Raphael…may not be that pleased with your plans, nor with us, brother." Castiel said slowly.

Dean snorted. "That's putting it lightly. Pretty sure he'll wanna smite us all on sight."

"It's like you guys draw shit to you. What happened?" Gabriel demanded.

Spencer watched, eyes wide, as Dean explained how Castiel had been killed by Raphael when he was trying to stop a seal from being broken – who knew angels could be killed and _come back_? – and how they'd had a confrontation with him in a circle of holy fire that hadn't ended all that well, either. When Dean got to the part where apparently Raphael believed that God was dead, Spencer felt the shock jolt through his guardian. "He thinks Dad's _dead_?" Gabriel sounded stunned. "You're _kidding_ me! Dad's not home, but that doesn't mean He's dead."

"Then why isn't He helping?" Castiel asked, voicing the question all of them were wondering. "If He is alive, Gabriel, why does He not help us?"

There was something sad in the way that Gabriel looked over at Castiel. It was a look that Spencer wasn't quite sure about; one that was sad and yet full of affection. "I don't know, kiddo. I'm not Him an I don't claim to understand Him."

"Does it really matter why?" Bobby said. He shrugged one shoulder when everyone looked at him. "What? The point is, He aint helping. The why don't really change anything. All we can do is work with what we got."

"Gramps is right. The best we can do is keep on going an quit hoping for Dad to come in and save the day. So why don't we try getting to work? I'll figure out how to deal with Raf later."

With that clear dismissal – and the tone to Gabriel's voice couldn't be labeled as anything but that – the group dove into their research. It was interesting, Spencer thought, to see people who were so insistent that they didn't really like Gabriel, who didn't trust him and weren't even sure in some ways that they wanted him to be a part of the team, follow what he said like they were orders. Was it just that they knew and understood that Gabriel had the most knowledge here, the most experience, and therefore it was smartest to actually listen to him? Or was it that they just _needed_ someone to step up and speak with authority and shoulder some of the responsibility that had been theirs for too long? Tilting his head, the fledgling looked up at Gabriel through shaggy hair that sheltered his curious gaze.

Gabriel looked down at Spencer and flashed a smirk, though he never broke in his conversation with Sam about Famine. He tipped him a wink out of sight of the others and then gave his hair a small tug before tapping Spencer's book.

Amusement curved Spencer's lips with the ghost of a smile. Right, right. Mind-reading trickster archangels who carried a surprisingly strong parental instinct.

That earned him a nudge of Gabriel's elbow against his head. Spencer chuckled lowly and didn't bother looking back up again. He drew his feet up into the chair and spread the book out over his thighs, unconsciously twisting himself to lean _towards_ Gabriel instead of away from him. His shoulder fit neatly under Gabriel's arm and his own elbow came up to rest on the archangel's curled up leg. He didn't even really pay attention to how physical he was getting with him as he turned his full attention to the first of many books.

Gabriel, however, did notice. He looked down at the kid up against him and his grace gave a happy little hum inside of him. The more that Spencer grew to trust himself, the more he was opening up to his grace and the instincts with it. Those instincts were what had him seeking out physical contact with the archangel. It was why Gabriel kept wrapping his wings around the kid instead of tucking them away like he usually kept them.

Right now, his grace was happy to have Spencer so close, and Spencer was the most relaxed he'd been since they arrived here. Content with that, Gabriel focused back on his conversation with Sam and tried to help brainstorm ways to track down Famine.

* * *

It was hours later before Spencer finally unfolded himself from the chair to take a break. He'd been through quite a stack of books by then – the amount of which seemed to amuse and impress the humans in the room. However, he eventually worked through the stack he had, and he wanted a moment to rest his eyes and let some of it sink in. One thing he'd learned through years at college and then at the Bureau was that sometimes you had to step away and let the information you gathered sink in and process. It needed to run through his head and get filed away in the appropriate places before he'd really be able to start making use of it.

Though he'd noticed lately that his body didn't really seem to crave the food and drink it used to, a fact he was damn sure going to remember to bring up with Gabriel ones of these days, that didn't mean that he didn't enjoy them. With that in mind he pushed up from his chair and moved towards the kitchen where he'd left his coffee earlier. This wasn't his home, he wasn't going to just make himself at home here. But the coffee carafe he'd snapped up earlier at breakfast was still sitting in at the table and a touch of his hand told him that it was still amazingly the perfect temperature. Huh. Must be something about conjured up coffee. Or Gabriel had to have done something.

That second thought was confirmed when he looked over and saw Gabriel wink at him.

Spencer was still pouring himself a fresh mug when the phone in his pocket started to vibrate. A quick look at the screen showed him it was Derek who was calling. Spencer looked up, catching Gabriel's eye and gesturing with the phone, letting him know he was going to go take the call outside. He got a nod in return. Satisfied with that, he ignored the others and answered his call while making his way out towards what he'd seen had to be the front door. "Dr. Reid."

" _About damn time you answered your phone._ " Derek said in lieu of greeting. " _What on earth is going on, Reid? We just got done meeting and Gideon told us you're taking an indefinite leave of absence? You're quitting the Bureau and you didn't bother calling me up and telling me? Are you okay? Are you sick?_ "

Spencer held in his sigh as he pushed out Bobby's front door and onto the porch there. He'd known this call was coming and he should've prepared for it. When he'd called to deal with work the other day, it had been a call to Jason and no one else. His mentor had promised him that he'd handle everyone else and Spencer had been cowardly enough to agree to it. He should've known better. "Hello to you too, Morgan. I'm fine, thanks for asking. How're you?"

" _Don't try and get cute with me, kid. You've got everyone here worried. I had to promise to report back to the girls just to keep them all from calling you or trying to track you down somehow. What's going on?_ "

This time there was no stopping his sigh. Spencer sat down on the front steps and looked out over the scrap yard in front of him. He lifted one hand and wiped it over his face, taking a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I really am all right, Morgan." Dropping his hand back down to his lap, he tried to think of what to say, of how to do this. How was he going to calm his friend down? Derek had a reason to be panicked. In his shoes, Spencer would've felt the same way. Sadly, there was no way that Spencer could think of that would completely ease his friend's fears. "I'm sorry I worried all of you. I just, I need some time right now."

" _Reid, is this cause of…_?"

Spencer knew exactly what he was referring to – the one thing they all knew and none of them spoke about. His hands clenched and he had to force them to relax. "No." Though it would be easy to let him believe it, to let this be an easy excuse, he just couldn't. He couldn't let his best friend believe that. "I haven't…that's done with, Morgan. I swear it is. This is something else entirely. This…it's, ah, it's family stuff."

He heard Derek suck in a sharp breath. " _Your Mom?_ "

"She's okay. This is, different family."

" _I didn't know you had any other family_."

"I didn't simply spring from the earth fully formed." Spencer said dryly.

He was rewarded with a low, easy laugh. One that told him that he'd succeeded in at least relaxing Derek a little bit. " _Listen to you, cracking jokes. I'm almost proud here, Reid. You so much snarkier long distance._ "

"Less chance of a rubber band to the head." That was Derek's way of retaliating to things. He'd wait until his target wasn't looking and launch a rubber band at the back of their head. The man had uncanny aim. He'd tried to show Spencer once, only to have the young genius end up somehow smacking himself in the face with it. He hadn't tried again.

The teasing relaxed both of them. It eased Spencer enough that he found himself opening up a little more than he'd intended. "I didn't know I had any other family either. This is…it's new. My family, they aren't…" A frustrated breath slipped from him and he pushed up off the steps, suddenly not wanting to be close to this house. He didn't want the chance of anyone inside overhearing him. Because Spencer found himself wanting to talk about this. Even if he couldn't give all the details, he wanted to talk about this to someone who was outside the situation. Someone who knew _him._ The person that he was, not the one he felt like he was becoming. "My parents, they aren't, they aren't who I thought they were. I found out the truth. I've got all this other family now. Morgan, I've got…I've got _siblings_."

Gabriel had explained it as best as he could, though Spencer still felt a little confused by it. Logically, he would've thought that the angels would've been considered Uncles or Aunts or whatever since he had two angels as parents. But according to Gabriel, it didn't work that way. Angels didn't have family the way that humans did. By human terms, sure, he could use Aunt or Uncle if he wanted for angels. But in angelic terms, in Heaven, he'd be considered just another brother.

" _Damn_." Derek said lowly. There was a pause as he processed this. Then, in a move Spencer hadn't expected but really should have, the first thing his friend said was " _You need some backup? I'm sure Gideon would give me even just a few days. I could come out for a weekend or something._ "

A lump formed in Spencer's throat. He'd walked past three cars before he managed to clear it enough to speak. "There's nothing you can do, really."

" _I could be there for you. There's no shame in needing a friend when things get shitty. Just say the word and I'll be on the first plane out there._ "

There was a part of Spencer that wanted to say yes. The idea of having a friend here with him, someone who would be here for him, who knew his past and knew who he was, at least better than anyone else here, it was tempting. Very, very tempting. But at the same time he knew there was no way he could bring anyone out here. How could he even begin to think of bringing anyone into this mess here? how could he think of dragging Derek into this? It wasn't like he was really just stuck with a whole new family that he was trying to come to terms with. He was in the middle of the Apocalypse! Bringing in a friend who was not only human but who he doubted had any experience whatsoever with the supernatural was just asking for him to be hurt. There was no way that Spencer could let his friend get hurt because of him.

"I'll be fine, Morgan." He made himself say. He didn't know if the words were true but he'd always been good at selling that particular lie. It was one he'd become an expert at telling. "I guess I just, I needed to vent a little."

" _That's what friends are for, man. You can call me up anytime to talk, you know that. I'll always answer if I can. An if I'm busy, you know I'll call back as quick as I can_."

"I know. Thanks." Biting his lip, Spencer looked back towards the house, back towards the mess that waited inside. He almost didn't want to go back there. Was there really any choice, though? He couldn't walk away from this; he'd already decided that. He was committed. That meant he needed to do what had to be done and quit standing out here whining about it. "I hate to cut this short but I really should get back inside. They're all probably wondering where I am."

" _All right. But don't let so damn long go between calls this time, kid. I'll be wondering about you and so will everyone else, so you call and check in and let us know how you're doing_."

"I will."

Spencer felt a little bit lighter as he made his way back in towards the house. Maybe he hadn't been able to tell Derek the whole truth, but talking about even that little bit was helpful. It was better than nothing.

When he got back inside, he found that most of the others were still chatting away inside of hte living room. Sam, however, was in the kitchen preparing a fresh pot of coffee. Spencer contemplated just trying to skirt past him and slip back into the living room without saying anything to him. He might have agreed to work whit everyone - that didn't mean that he'd forgiven them all. Especially not htis man. Spencer knew it wasn't reasonable and it didn't make sense, considering that Sam had been the nicest one through that whole crappy situation. But he couldn't stop it. He was angrier with Sam than anyone else. Maybe it was because he'd been the nicest. He'd made Spencer feel like he could trust him. Him and his bright, open mind and that earnest sensation that he now knew had been a hint of the human's soul reaching out. Sam had made him want to trust them. Then they'd all betrayed that trust.

The choice of staying or going was taken out of his hands only seconds after he got in the room. His brief pause was just enough time for Sam to turn around and see him standing there. An almost instant smile touched the hunter's lips. "Spencer, hey."

"Hey." Spencer said lowly. He inched, ever so slightly, towards the door that would lead to the living room and back towards the safety of the group.

He should've known it wouldn't be that easy. "Do you have a second?" Sam asked before he could get more than a step or two. He put the coffee pot into the maker and flipped the switch to on and then his full attention was focused right on Spencer. "I just, I wanted to speak with you for a minute.

Spencer hated how the need to run twisted through him. He hated how cowardly it made him feel. It made him hate himself just the slightest bit. That, more than anything else, had him planting his feet. His shoulders went back and his chin tipped up ever so slightly. "What do you need, Sam?" Even to him, his voice sounded cool and flat, a tone not at all like his usual one. There was no shyness present. Just a flat, emotionless tone that gave nothing away.

It made Sam wince. He recovered quickly. "I know that you're angry with us and I know you're hurt, Spencer. You've got every right in the world to be. And I know that nothing I can say to you is going to make it better. What we did, it was wrong. It was beyond wrong. We held you captive here and put you in a place that was torturing you. Even if we didn't know the sigils would do that, it's still, it's no excuse." He spread his hands out on either side of him and the earnest puppy look on his face really should've been illegal. "I'm sorry doesn't seem like enough, but it's all I've got. I am so sorry for what you went through, what we put you through. I don't expect me saying that to change anything. I just, I needed to say it, and I think you needed to hear it. I'm sorry, Spencer."

Dammit. Spencer could feel the guilt and regret coming off of him no matter how much he wished he couldn't. These extra senses of his told him just how honest Sam was being right then. It made it hard to hold on to his anger. Yet self-preservation demanded that he not let it go. Letting himself care and trust could mean letting himself get hurt. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't afford to have that happen.

But holding a grudge had never been something that Spencer was good at.

His arms came up to wrap around his waist in an outward sign of the distress inside of him. "I trusted you." His voice was low, pitched for Sam alone. The living room had gone somewhat quiet and Spencer wasn't stupid enough to think that the others weren't listening in on them. He didn't let himself think on that. He just looked at Sam and tried to get out what he needed to say here. "I trusted the three of you, despite the fact that you trapped me in what I now know was holy fire - something that could've killed me. I trusted you enough to let your angel come up in what was supposed to be an attempt to help. And in return you locked me up like, like I was an animal. A monster. I was so...angry with you all."

"I know." Sam said softly. Achingly. "You have every right to be."

Spencer shook his head. His hands tightened against his sides. "No, not anymore. This, what happened between us all? It's not important. Not in the scheme of things. What you guys did, you did because you thought it was right. Because you were trying to save the world. In the face of that, what's the anger of one person? I don't like being angry and I just, I don't want to waste the energy it would take to maintain it. I'm not going to exhaust myself being angry with you guys anymore. But... I don't trust you." On this, his voice was steady, and he made sure it was clear enough that the others would hear. "I don't trust you and I don't know how long it'll be before I will. I know I should, because if we're going to work together we're going to have to trust each other. But I don't."

"We'll earn that trust, if you'll let us."

"I trust Gabriel, and he trusts you. That'll have to be enough for now."

"It's enough." Sam said. "It's plenty enough. We can work with that."

Spencer gave a small nod and then turned and headed towards the living room. No one in there even bothered to try and pretend they hadn't been listening in. Dean was watching him with something cautious on his face. He'd angled himself in front of Castiel a little like he was trying to protect him. Like he thought that maybe since Spencer had said his piece to Sam he was going to come in here now and say it to them – to Castiel. That wasn't what Spencer planned, though. He knew they'd all heard him. Why bother saying it all again? Still, he found it kind of sweet that Dean thought an angel needed protection.

Being the center of attention wasn't exactly Spencer's favorite thing in the world and all the eyes currently on him were only making him uncomfortable. Thankfully, there was one person in the room who was fully on his side and who had no problems standing up and pulling the attention directly to him. "Well, now that we've got that out of the way – you ready to go, squirt?"

"Go?" Spencer furrowed his brows. Where were they going?

Gabriel walked over to him and smiled at him. "Yep. We got some things to take care of, you and I." That said, he looked to the others. Sam had come in right after Spencer and he joined his brother on the couch now, looking up at them. Gabriel put his hand on Spencer's shoulder in a gesture that was probably meant to look casual but only looked possessive. "All righty then. You kiddos have fun doing your research. I'm gonna take Spencer on home and get in a few hours of grace training before I go see about setting up a safe place to call up my big bro."

"A safe place?" Dean asked.

That had the archangel raising his eyebrow. "Well I'm not stupid enough to just call him down with nothing to cover my ass." The way Gabriel looked at him showed clearly just how stupid he found that idea. "Have you seen it? It's a nice ass; I'd hate to damage it. I'm making damn sure I'm walking away from this, one way or another. To do that takes time and a bit of prep. Two days, minimum. So! We'll go get started on that and we'll come find you guys in the morning."

With no more warning than that, the two of them were gone.


	17. Between Hope and Destruction Part 4

Breakfast the next morning was a quiet affair. Spencer relished in the silence of it, knowing that they were going to be so much busier here shortly. It felt good to just sit in the quiet for the time being. He ate quietly, content with Gabriel's presence close to him. It wasn't until they were almost done with their food that they finally broke the silence. He wasn't surprised that Gabriel was the one to do it, nor by the question that he asked. "How're you doing, kiddo?"

"I'm fine." Spencer answered automatically. He saw Gabriel's slightly skeptical look and knew his self-appointed guardian wasn't accepting his words. A shy smile touched Spencer's lips. "Really, Gabriel, I am. I'm not going to try and claim that I'm perfect - we both know better. However, it's not anything I can't handle. I've dealt with worse."

"Just cause you've dealt with worse in the past doesn't mean you should have to put up with shit now." Gabriel pointed out. Then he sighed and softened a little. "I can't help it, kiddo. I know you've already been through shit and you're capable of dealing with it and blah, blah, blah. Doesn't mean I don't wanna wrap you up and keep you from getting hurt."

"I know."

A quiet fell over them once more as they finished off the last of their food. Once the food was gone and the dishes put away, the two came together in the living room. Spencer had a bag slung over his arm today with books that Gabriel had approved as being safe to leave the house. They took a second to make sure they had everything and then Gabriel was flying them away from their hideaway and back to Bobby's house.

Only Bobby was in the living room when they arrived. He looked up at the sound of their landing but, to his credit, he didn't startle at it. He just nodded at Gabriel and actually smiled at Spencer. "Hey. Didn't expect to see you two."

"I said we'd be back." Gabriel pointed out. He made a show of looking around the room. "Where's tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum?"

"Running errands in town."

It was a vague sort of answer and Bobby offered no more than that. Whatever Gabriel thought of it, he didn't say anything. Spencer, however, relaxed ever so slightly. Where the boys went, their angel would go, and that meant that he wasn't _here_. Spencer had no issues with Bobby and the idea of spending the day with just him was a bit easier to stomach than spending the day crowded in this small house with everyone. It also made it easier for Spencer to do what he'd been planning on doing anyways. After he set his bag down on the couch, he turned to smile at Gabriel and he hesitantly reached out with a tiny tendril of grace. "I know you've got a lot to do, Gabriel. Why don't you go ahead and take care of things while I stay here and research with Mr. Singer? I mean, if that's all right with him." He glanced back at Bobby for confirmation and found the hunter nodding at him. "It's fine by me – so long as you quit calling me Mr. Singer."

Spencer flashed a shy smile and dropped his gaze. Then he looked back up at Gabriel.

The archangel was watching him carefully. "You sure, little bird? Cause I can hold out for a little while and work tonight."

"It's fine, Gabriel. This is important; you go handle what you need to."

Gabriel's grace curled around the little tendril from Spencer and sent a pulse of affection. " _You're_ important." He said firmly. Then he smiled, a look that Spencer could see was covering up the frown he really wanted to let out. "You call me if you need me for _anything_. Just send up a prayer and I'll be here as fast as I can fly."

"Yes, sir." The words were just sort of instinctive. Spencer said them without even really thinking about it. He'd just been responding to that tone in Gabriel's voice, the one that said he expected to be listened to, and Spencer responded the same he would have if Aaron or Jason had been the one to say it.

Unlike them, however, the archangel wasn't the least bit pleased with that sign of 'respect'. Gabriel scowled at him and cuffed him with one wing. "Don't get lippy with me."

"Only you would think the title 'sir' is 'getting lippy'." Spencer said, shaking his head.

Gabriel didn't say anything against that. He just flashed one of those bright, bright grins of his and then he snapped his fingers and he was gone. Spencer turned to look over at the older hunter, aware suddenly that the two of them were alone here. For all his bravado with Gabriel there, a part of Spencer didn't want to be left alone here. He didn't want to be without the protection of the archangel. The only thing that really kept him from panicking was that he knew Gabriel was an angel of his word. If Spencer prayed for him, he'd be here as fast as he could. And Gabriel had told him there was very little that could block out a prayer and so far as he knew, the hunters here didn't know any of them.

The way that Bobby was looking at him suggested that he knew just how uncomfortable Spencer was. He didn't call him on it, though. He just gestured with his chin towards the bag that Spencer had brought with him. "You bringing your own toys with you today?"

"Just some books." Spencer said. He resisted the urge to ask Bobby why on earth he'd be bringing toys of all things here.

"Anything useful?"

"I'm not sure yet." Spencer moved over to the couch and sat down on the end furthest from Bobby. It wasn't a conscious choice; just something automatic. He folded himself down onto the end and pulled his bag up into his lap. "I went through Gabriel's books and he sorted the ones I found into two piles. One that had to stay there and one that was safe to bring out. I brought the pile he deemed safe. Or, at least, some of it."

Bobby lifted his eyebrows under the brim of his dirty trucker cap. "Safe?"

Instead of answering that, the young fledgling shrugged his shoulder. He wasn't going to be giving away information that Gabriel didn't want him to give away. If the hunter had questions he was free to try and ask Gabriel later on.

Spencer focused a little bit and, with a quick snap, brought the notebook and pen that he'd left beside his bed. They appeared in his lap. Spencer grinned down at the items. He was getting better at things. Gabriel said his control and strength were improving every day.

The two men settled down into a silence that was surprisingly companionable. They didn't say much else to one another as they both dove into their research.

* * *

The two continued on their research for most of the day. The silence that had surrounded them at the start was broken by Spencer first, when he'd had a quick question about a curious look Bobby wore. Apparently the hunter had been stuck on the translation of one Latin word that could've gone two ways. Knowledge was something that Spencer was comfortable with and it was something that had helped him many times in the past to break past the barriers that his own fears put up. He'd found himself pushing up off the couch to come hesitantly over to Bobby's desk and look down at the translation that he was working on.

From there it was like the wall between them was broken down. Bobby asking Spencer for help there had triggered conversation between them and now they talked openly. Spencer found himself sitting at the end of the couch closest to Bobby, talking animatedly as he explained about what he was discovering about Pestilence in the book that he'd found. Nothing that they'd found so far was anything good. "It's not going to be easy going up against him."

"Yeah, well, when is any of this ever easy?" Bobby asked.

Spencer chuckled lightly. "It does seem that way, doesn't it? Then again, I think we'd be ridiculous if we assumed that any part of the Apocalypse would be easy. If it were, it wouldn't be a problem, would it?"

"You got a point there, kid."

"You know..." Hesitating, Spencer chewed on his lip for a moment, turning over something in his mind. It'd been something he was thinking about for most of the morning.

"What is it?" Bobby asked. He watched Spencer's face, reading the play of emotion there.

The fledgling didn't notice Bobby's observation. He curled his hands around the edge of his notebook. "All of this research into the Horsemen is important, I'm not saying that it's not, but shouldn't we be researching other things as well? Things to protect us for when we do go up against them? Everything that I'm seeing so far suggests that they're extremely powerful. We won't stand a chance of stopping them if we don't figure out how to keep ourselves safe while we do it."

Bobby sat back in his chair. "Thought that's what our secret archangel was for."

"His power isn't absolute. I have no idea how it'll hold against a Horseman. Why diffuse his power by having him protect all of us as well?" It wasn't logical. Best that they leave him prepared to handle just about anything that came their way. There was no reason for them to waste Gabriel's powers on protections they could do themselves. "I've got a working knowledge of quite a few protective sigils and runes as well as spells. I've come across a lot over the years." He gave Bobby a wry grin. "I may not be a hunter, but I like knowledge and I read anything I can get my hands on. I've accumulated a lot of different facts in my lifetime."

The two shared a look, scholar to scholar, and then Bobby was pulling out fresh paper and pen. "All right, kid. Let's break things up a bit and compare notes. Between the two of us I bet we can come up with a way to keep everyone safe."

* * *

They were still at it later when the boys finally returned back to Bobby's house. The sky was just starting to get dark when they heard the sound of the impala come up the drive. Spencer hadn't once asked Bobby what the boys had been up to and he didn't plan on it. He didn't plan on asking the Winchesters, either. Just because they were working together didn't mean that they needed to know every single detail about one another's lives.

Spencer and Bobby were bent over the still larger than normal kitchen table with papers spread out in front of them when the boys came in. If it had been anyone else this probably would've looked extremely strange. All the papers strewn out had different sigils drawn hastily on them. The two scholars were trying to find the smartest way to combine these things to offer the best protection - without doing any damage to the wearer. They'd come up with a few possibilities so far and had discarded a few. Some things couldn't be paired together without making a person sick or opening them up for a different kind of attack entirely. There were some, too, that Bobby knew that Spencer hadn't ever seen or heard of before, and there were also surprisingly some that Spencer knew that Bobby didn't.

Even though this couldn't be that strange in the grand scheme of things for the Winchesters, the both of them froze when they came into the kitchen. Dean arched his eyebrows at them while Sam looked most interested than anything else. "Well, you guys have been busy." Dean said dryly.

Bobby snorted and didn't even bother looking up from his papers. Spencer, however, flushed just a little and nervously shuffled the papers in his hands, almost dropping them. A quick move from Bobby rescued them. He'd grown used to Spencer's absentmindedness and slight gracelessness today. The more that Spencer got into what he was saying, the more he forgot things around him. Namely, how to not knock into anything, or not drop anything or things like that. Bobby's quick reflexes had saved him once already from falling to the floor when he'd tripped over a chair in his excitement to get to a certain piece of paper.

"What is all this?" Sam asked, stepping up to the table and looking down at all their papers. A second later his eyes lit with realization. "You guys are figuring out protection."

"We figured it'd be smart to be prepared when we go up against the Horsemen." Spencer said.

Dean spared it all a half glance on his way to the fridge. "Nice." was all he said. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped the top, tossing the bottle cap into the sink. "Make any progress on actually finding the bastards?"

Lifting his head from his work, Bobby scowled over at him. "You wanna step in an help a little instead of comin' in bitching and moaning at me, boy? We thought it might be smart to maybe make sure we're ready to handle em before we actually hunt them down. I like the idea of not dyin' when we do."

"An we appreciate your work, Bobby, we do." Sam stepped in, playing peacemaker in a way that Spencer was fast coming to see was a normal role for him. He had the tone of voice perfect. A way of saying things that wasn't offensive to either side and helped to diffuse any temper that might crop up.

Trying to ignore them for a moment, Spencer bent down over the table to look at a sheet of paper that had slid under the others. Maybe this one, if they placed it next to...he grabbed another sheet of paper and grinned. Ah, yes. These two together would help protect the wearer from quite an array of magically induced illnesses. Who knew if it would work against a creature as strong as Pestilence? Would the illnesses he caused count as magically created ones or would they be considered more _real_? Either way, it was worth wearing. They'd give no harm to the one who was wearing them.

As he straightened himself back up, the ache that sat between his shoulders all the time anymore made itself known and he winced a little. Dammit, now was not the time for that to start kicking in. Spencer rolled his shoulders to try and ease the muscle strain. There was no getting rid of it, not completely, but sometimes he could get it a little more under control than others. It was starting to happen more and more frequently. Gabriel said it meant that his wings were getting closer to wanting free.

His gesture hadn't been lost on the others. Bobby straightened up as well and pressed his hands in against the small of his own back, pushing and arching until he got himself to pop. Then he smiled at Spencer. "We been pushing ourselves here, kid. Why don't we take a break for a bit? You been bent over this table for hours. Go outside, take a walk, get some fresh air."

Spencer tilted his head so that his bangs screened his face and he discreetly looked them over. He wasn't sure if Bobby's suggestion was for him to really stretch or if he wanted a little alone time with the boys to discuss whatever it was they'd been doing today.

Either way, Spencer wasn't going to argue it. "That sounds perfect. Excuse me, gentlemen." He slipped past Sam, who politely stepped back to allow him past, and then moved towards the front door. If they wanted to talk without him being there, let them. Maybe it wasn't the best team dynamic but there was no reason to expect them all to be able to work together perfectly right away. They were basically two teams merging into one - with no one really trusting anyone. _This ought to work out great,_ he thought sarcastically.

Spencer didn't go far in his walk. Just down a long row of cars to a space that was just out of view of the front porch. There, he leaned against the side of the car, wrapping his arms around himself and wishing idly for a sweater to wear. After a second he chuckled at himself for forgetting and he snapped his fingers. A warm, thick cardigan appeared on him and he gave a happy sigh, snuggling down into it.

He didn't really let himself think about anything in particular as he rested there and watched the sun go down. His brain had been working nonstop for hours now. It felt good to let it rest.

Unfortunately, his time alone didn't last very long. He'd only been out there for five, maybe ten minutes when he heard the crunch of gravel and felt the presence of someone coming towards him. His mind easily identified the other person as Dean. Knowing who it was, Spencer didn't turn away from the view. He just stayed where he was as Dean stopped a few feet behind him.

When the hunter stayed quiet for a moment, Spencer decided that he was going to have to be the one to break the silence. "So, am I to assume it's your turn for a 'heart to heart'?"

He felt the other man startle at his words and then there was a low snort. "God, no." Dean drawled out. He moved forward, coming up to stand at Spencer's side. He looked briefly at Spencer's face before following his gaze to the sunset ahead. "Sharing and caring isn't exactly my thing. I think you and I both know where we stand."

"I don't trust you and you don't trust me. Or Gabriel – who I _do_ trust." A corner of Spencer's mouth tipped up. "Which makes you distrust me even more. Did I get it all?"

He felt the warm crisp feel of Dean's humor in the air. "Yep. Sounds like it."

"Mm."

"It's nothing against you, kid. I know he's helped you and all that."

"He's just put you through a lot." Spencer finished. "I know. He let me read the gospels. I guess he figured it was only fair I knew what I was going to get myself into."

The string of curses that Dean let out at that was rather impressive. Spencer logged some of it away in his head to think about later. He'd always been personally amused by the way that some people cursed. Not all of them ever made any sense to him. The things that people said or suggested someone do. In the back of his mind, Spencer made a note to ask Gabriel about some of it. Maybe he'd be able to make some of it make sense. For now, he just focused his attention on the hunter who was slowly running out of steam. Dean finally settled back against the car with a huff and a glare. "I hate those freaking books." He growled. Then he waved a hand before Spencer could say anything. "Bypassing that entirely, how is it that you could read the things that he's done, the dude that he was, and still be okay with him? I mean, I'm not trying to get rid of a powerful ally here, but I'm not looking to get screwed over. And he's got a history of screwing us over."

"Actually, if you look at it from an objective standpoint, he's got a history of trying to help you guys." Spencer countered. "Everything I read, everything he's done to you or that he did to other people, all the things he told me he did, there was always a lesson to be learned there."

"He's killed people, Doc. Lots of people."

"I know." Spencer said calmly.

Dean turned to look at him incredulously. "And you're cool with that?"

"Have you ever asked him _why_ he killed them?" Spencer countered. He didn't raise his voice, didn't look upset. He just looked at Dean with those too big, too serious eyes of his and calmly asked "Did you ever ask him at all about the people he punished? Or did you simply see the crimes, assume he was evil and decide that he needed to be killed?" The stunned look on his face had Spencer nodding a little as if he'd spoken aloud and answered his questions. "That's what I thought. Things aren't as black and white as you seem to see them as. There's an entire world in shades of gray out there. Maybe next time you should remember that and get the whole story before you make your decisions."

A sensation tickled at the back of Spencer's mind and had his head snapping up. Part of it he recognized; that was Gabriel coming towards them. He knew the feel of the archangel's incoming arrival by now. He had a unique feel to him that was more trickster than anything else. More pagan. Spencer knew it and his mind easily labeled it as Gabriel. What he didn't recognize was the being that he could feel coming with him. "Something's coming."

Immediately Dean tensed beside him. "What?"

"Something's coming." Spencer repeated. He shoved off the car and started to make his way quickly towards the house with Dean hot on his heels. Whatever was coming with Gabriel, they weren't going to wait for it outside. They weren't going to be separated. Spencer had every faith that Gabriel wouldn't bring anyone or anything here that might bring them harm. However, that didn't mean he wanted to be out here with only Dean at his side when it arrived.

They got into the house in just seconds after Gabriel and his companion landed. When Spencer stepped inside and saw who was standing there, he sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled. He would've hit the ground if Dean hadn't caught him up and steadied him. As soon as he had his feet, he found himself shoved behind Dean as the hunter took up a protective stance in front of him. "What's going on?"

Spencer ignored Sam and Bobby on the opposite side of the room. All of his attention was on the being beside Gabriel who shone with a light so bright it was almost blinding. Six enormous white wings lifted up behind him and even with Spencer's shields up, the true form was shining through the vessel, so much more powerful than even Gabriel's.

"Guys," Gabriel said, giving them all his most charming smile. "I'd like you to meet my brother – Mike."

The First Archangel, the oldest of all angels, looked at every single one of them, eyes lingering on Dean the longest, before finally settling on Spencer. The intensity of that stare had Spencer taking a full step back. "Hello." Michael said in a voice that was low and smooth. One corner of his mouth quirked up. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

A stunned silence fell over the room.


	18. Between Hope and Destruction Part 5

_I'm really very nervous about this chapter. Michael may seem a bit OOC, but I feel there's not enough on the show to really give us an accurate gauge of his character. So, ah, here this is._

* * *

Leaving Spencer at Singer's place wasn't exactly something that Gabriel was all that comfortable doing. He'd gotten sort of used to having Spencer under wing and leaving him alone just didn't feel right. Fledglings weren't supposed to be left outside the care of an angel. It didn't help matters that Spencer hadn't been all that happy about it either. Oh, the kid tried to cover it up, to act tough, but Gabriel knew how to read him. He didn't want to separate any more than Gabriel did. He just did it because they both knew there were things that had to be done. Gabriel needed to do some things and leaving Spencer there while he did it was really the best bet. Well, second best. Gabriel' would've been even more comfortable if he could've left Spencer on the safety of their island. There was nowhere on earth that was better protected for him. But he couldn't keep the fledgling trapped there. He couldn't do that to him.

The point was, his fledgling was safe. That would have to be enough for now.

Trusting in that, Gabriel focused his attention on the task ahead of him. He'd been preparing for this day pretty much ever since he'd taken Spencer in and really got to know him. He'd known before Spencer had ever said a word that the fledgling would want to come back and help, and he'd known what that would mean for him. Gabriel had slowly come to terms with the fact that he was going to be forced to face his family once more. After so long spent hiding from them, he was going to not only face them again, he was going to face _Michael_ , and he was going to potentially fight against them. It would be suicide to fight against his oldest brother, of course, but there was no other choice. There was so much more at stake here than the Winchesters or Spencer knew. Something much more important was ahead of them. Gabriel would do everything he could to make sure that he and the others stood a chance. If that meant revealing himself and making allies with siblings who probably wanted nothing to do with him – s o be it.

The first thing that Gabriel had done to prepare for this was to start making up the vessel that he would need for his brother. Michael didn't have a vessel, hence why he wasn't down here on earth more often trying to persuade Dean. He wasn't like Lucifer, running around in a second rate vessel. So if Gabriel wanted to have a talk with him outside of Heaven he was going to have to make a vessel for his brother to be inside of.

That's what took the most time. It took time, effort, and not only his archangel powers but quite a bit of his trickster powers as well. The cover that he'd assumed all this time while hiding was more than just some mask he put on. Gabriel hadn't just pretended to be Loki – he'd become him. There was power in godhood even if his family didn't see it. Being a pagan god, one whose name was known, was a powerful thing. Having people believe in you – that was a lot. It was where many pagan gods gained their most power, from their followers. There were still people out there who believed in Loki.

With those two combined sets of powers, he got a vessel made up for his brother that he was sure Mikey would like. Sam and Dean might not be extremely pleased but, meh, he didn't really set out to please them. Though he didn't really want to upset the taller of the two.

The vessel looked like it could be a distant relation of their father's. Close to Dean in height, though not as tall as Sam – so sue him, he didn't want someone bigger than the sasquatch – and in pretty decent shape. Brown hair, almost black, and with brown eyes, plus a bit of facial hair just because it amused him to put it there. Beard, mustache, the whole shebang, just kept short and well-trimmed. He was even nice enough to think of Michael and put the guy in rather decent clothes. Plain jeans, a dress shirt, and a light leather jacket over it all. He'd blend in and wouldn't look like some idiot. Considering the circumstances, Gabriel figured it was best to just dress the guy normally. While making him wear stupid clothes would be amusing at first, there was no doubt Michael would find out soon enough and pissing off the guy you were asking a huge favor from really wasn't good form.

Once he had the vessel ready it was only a matter of picking a location and setting up the appropriate wards. Somewhere secluded was important, with no witnesses and no chance of innocent casualties if things didn't go all that well. To that end, Gabriel chose the middle of the desert. It seemed the perfect place to have their little talk. He scouted the area, found just the right spot that was far away from any sense of civilization, and then he started laying down the protections.

There was only so much he could do to make this safe for him. Really, in the end, he knew that a lot of it probably wouldn't matter. Short of summoning his brother straight into a circle of holy fire, he was putting himself at risk here. And he wasn't dumb enough to trap his brother like that. No, most of the protections he put down wouldn't keep him safe from _Michael_. They would, however, keep the two of them as hidden and safe as possible from the rest of the world. Gabriel had a cover to maintain around here and he didn't need someone trying to spy on them and finding out that, hey, Loki's not exactly who he said he is, the trickster tricked us all!

He was over halfway through the day when he finally had everything ready. A brief check of his protections, a quick wish that he wasn't about to get himself killed with this stunt, and then it was time. Gabriel stood in the middle of his protective circles and did the ritual that would call his brother down to him. As light filled the sky and the very sand seemed to shake, Gabriel held his ground and hoped that this wasn't going to end up being some giant mistake.

Gabriel didn't keep himself hidden as Michael stood up in his new vessel. Keeping up the cover of pagan god would've been a good way to potentially get smote on sight. This was an encounter he wanted to survive, thank you very much. So he didn't bother hiding himself and instead let his wings sit free. After so long keeping them hidden, it felt good to show them as much as he had lately, but it also felt a little strange. A little, exposing.

All it took was one look for Michael to see who he was. One look for Michael to see Gabriel's familiar grace and know exactly who was standing there in front of him. Gabriel wasn't sure what kind of reaction he'd expected here. Anger, maybe, or disgust, or even getting his ass kicked. All of those had seemed in the realm of possibility. What he hadn't expected in the least bit was for Michael's wings to lift up in an open display of shock that was echoed throughout the archangel's grace and then for all six glorious white wings to reach out for him like they had when he was just a tiny little fledgling. " _Gabriel_."

It'd been a long, long time since Gabriel had been home. A long time since he'd felt the grace of one of his siblings opening to him like this. Michael reached out for him without hesitation, without a single bit of anything other than absolute love, and there was no way that Gabriel could refuse it. He didn't have that kind of strength in him. He let Michael's wings wrap around him and let the grace of his oldest brother curl around his own and cradle him much in the same way that Gabriel had cradled Spencer just recently. It was an angelic equivalent of a hug and it was something that Gabriel had missed far more than he'd let himself dwell on. It felt so damn good to curl up against his brother. Feeling the vessel's arms curl around him, that was nothing, just something inconsequential. What mattered were the six wings of pure white that were around him and holding him close.

When they pulled apart, the both of them were smiling, even if a hint of sadness was starting to show through Michael's eyes. There was none of the anger that Gabriel had expected to see. None of the righteous fury he'd been so sure was going to be present in his brother. "Gabriel," One wing drew back from their hug, only to lift and brush across his vessel's cheek. "Brother, we'd feared the worst. With everything that had been happening and then your disappearance, we'd feared the very worst."

"I'm sorry." Those two words were true. They held more power for the fact that he knew Michael understood they weren't something he said easily or lightly. "I just, I couldn't handle it, Mikey. I couldn't. The fighting..."

The middle pair of Michael's wings tightened briefly over him. "You never did handle our fighting all that well." There was a note of sadness to his words.

The firm resolve that Gabriel had held in himself when he'd started this was melting away underneath all this. This wasn't the brother that he'd expected to find. With the apocalypse on them, he'd expected something so different from Michael. Something reminiscent of those days where the fighting had been the worst. He'd thought that he would find an angry, righteous Michael, one who was furious and sure of his course, sure of the rightness of it. He'd expected scolding and recriminations and potentially even a fight. He definitely hadn't expected this love and acceptance and sorrow. It was throwing him for a loop and he couldn't seem to quite find his footing underneath it all.

Michael's wings uncurled form around him, though the largest right wing stayed tangled with Gabriel's. It was a sort of hand-holding gesture for them. A way of staying connected to one another. "I'm sorry we ever made you feel that you had to leave just to get away from it all, Gabriel."

Now that definitely stunned him. Gabriel straightened up and his eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline. "You're apologizing? To me? Seriously?"

"Don't say it like it's something I've never done before."

"Well..." Gabriel huffed out a breath. What the hell was going on here?

"I never wanted to hurt you, brother. You, the youngest of us. We never wanted you to suffer for our fights. It was one thing that Lucifer and I both hated. We didn't want you and the others mixed up in the middle of all this."

That had Gabriel scoffing. He drew back abruptly, reminded with that one simple statement why he was here and what was going on. The soft feelings that had surrounded them before were shattered by reality. This wasn't just some special homecoming here. There was so much more going on, much more important things. This wasn't the time for rehashing old hurts. Gabriel drew himself out of the circle of Michael's wings and felt his own draw up behind him as he slipped back into the slightly mocking persona that he'd learned in his time as Loki. His lips curled up in a harsh mockery of a smirk and he arched one single eyebrow in a look he knew was harsh and derisive and as annoying as he could make it. "Good work with that. You failed kinda spectacularly at that, bro."

Michael didn't take the bait. He drew his wings back in and straightened himself up, his shoulders squaring under yet another brother's recriminations. "I know."

There was a part of Gabriel that wanted to drop the act at the sight of that. Michael had always taken too much on himself, taken on the guilt for _everything_ , kind of like a certain hunter Gabriel knew. It was a little bit scary how alike archangel and vessel were. But he couldn't let himself soften. Not here, not now. Maybe later, if things went well. For now, he had to stick to his plan. "I'm not here to rehash our old squabbles, Mikey. I'm here about the current one."

"Even when you hated our fighting, you never could stop yourself from trying to play peacemaker." Michael said fondly. Then he sighed and gave a small shake of his head. "This is one fight you cannot be involved in, little brother. It's one that you cannot be in the middle of."

"Can't be in the middle?" Shaking his head, Gabriel let out a harsh laugh. "Bro, _everyone's_ in the middle of this one. This fight is going to destroy the planet – a planet I very much enjoy. Even now, there's angels out there fighting in your name, _dying_ in your name. An you wanna say it's a fight I can't be in the middle of?"

"Gabriel…"

"Mikey…" Gabriel cut in. He spread out his hands and his wings both in a gesture meant to ask for silence, to ask Michael to _listen_. "What happened to you? This isn't Dad's will here. I know you know that. This isn't the time. If it were, Dad would've me blowing the horn to herald it."

"Our brother walks the earth. You would have me let him simply leave death and destruction in his wake?"

"I'd have you think!" Gabriel snapped at him. "I'd have you use all those smarts Dad gave you and actually _think_ about this! How many more are going to have to suffer for your fight, huh? How many more have to die just because you two can't get your acts together?"

The first show of anger flashed over Michael's face. "Mind how you speak to me, Gabriel." He warned him.

As usual, the younger archangel didn't heed the warning. Instead, he sneered. "Or what? You'll kill me too?"

The absolute sock on Michael's face at that statement almost made Gabriel sorry for his words. Almost. He watched his brother draw back like Gabriel had struck out at him. "You really think that of me?" Michael asked. His wings shivered a little as he met Gabriel's gaze. "You, of all angels, truly think I'd strike you down just for arguing with me?"

"Wouldn't you?" Gabriel asked softly. "Isn't that what you're doing with Lucifer right now?"

This time Michael's flinch was much more pronounced. Gabriel watched as his brother turned away from him, turned to look off into the distance as he fought to control his grace. The defensive way he held his wings made Gabriel ache a little. It was a look he'd seen on Michael so many times before. One that said that the archangel was hurt and was slowly drawing his walls up around himself once more, walls meant to protect him and keep him as safe as possible. Walls that kept anyone from getting in there and helping him bear the burden that he took on his shoulders. It was what he always did. He took everything on himself as if it were all his own. When he spoke again, his voice was flat and almost empty, another sign of just how tightly he was holding himself now. It also clearly said that he wasn't going to be moved on this. He'd come to his decision, the Good Son here doing Dad's will, and he wouldn't be moved. "This is as it should be, Gabriel. Our Father wills it so."

Time to pull out the big guns. Gabriel blew out a breath and prepared to start himself down a road they couldn't turn back from. A road he'd been on from the moment he'd taken that little fledgling out of the panic room and back to his home. "There's a fledgling on earth."

Those words stopped Michael in his tracks. He went completely and utterly still; even his grace seemed frozen. Only his head and eyes moved, turning to lock onto Gabriel in a silent demand that the younger archangel easily read. He nodded at his big brother. "I've seen him myself. He's an adult by human standards, but by ours he's still under a year."

"A fledgling. On earth." The both of them knew what that meant. Even if Gabriel hadn't seen Spencer for himself, just hearing about him would've been enough for him to know, just as Michael knew. The only way for a fledgling to be down on earth, especially one so young, had to mean that they'd been born there. "A _human_ fledgling."

"Yeah." Gabriel stuffed his hands down into his pockets. For once, there was no sign of humor on his face. "You know what that means, Mike."

"It can't be."

"You know what the prophet said." It was something only the Firstborn knew. Something only they had been privy to. "The four of us, we're the only ones besides Dad that know."

Still, Michael shook his head, more in shock than actual disbelief. "It can't be possible. Not now."

"It is. His existence is proof of that. And you know just as well as I do what it means." Spreading his hands, Gabriel took a small step forward, imploring his brother to hear him. "I'm not telling you that you and Luci can't have your big death match someday, Mikey. We both know that if Dad wants it, it'll happen. I'm just saying – not now. This isn't the right time. If the prophet was right, we've got so much more trouble coming our way than you two fighting over who loved Daddy more."

"And a darkness will come, greater and more powerful than any before, and it will seek to consume us all. It is death, it is hunger. It is night and the end to all realms above, below, and between." Michael quote softly, the words giving them the same chill now that they had the first time they'd heard them. He closed his eyes briefly. "I had hoped this day wouldn't come."

"We all did. But it's here, an there's no turning back."

"Have you… you've seen this fledgling?" Michael opened his eyes and looked at him. "Is he, yours?" They both knew how a fledgling was born to earth. He had to have two angelic parents.

"I don't know." Gabriel admitted. He couldn't directly say no; there had been plenty that he'd slept with during his time on earth. Despite being in hiding, two of those people in all that time had been angels. But he'd only known them as the angels they were, not the vessels they'd been in, so he couldn't rightly say if one of them had been Spencer's mother or not. Nevertheless, it didn't matter to him. He didn't care _who_ had sired the boy. "Whoever fathered him, he's mine now. I've Claimed him."

Michael's wings lifted in surprise. In Heaven, Claiming a fledgling was a big thing. Fledglings were created by their Father and, as such, had no parent but Him. They were all brothers and sisters up there. But occasionally, an angel would Claim a fledgling. Or, even rarer, an archangel would Claim one. It meant that they took that fledgling under their wing, literally, and accepted responsibility for them in every way possible. In human terms, it was almost like becoming a step-parent. Only bigger and a lot more binding.

And as the one who cared for Spencer, it was his responsibility to issue a few warnings here. "You'll need to be careful with him. He didn't even know what he was until a few weeks ago. Whoever sired him, one of them bound him when he was a baby. That binding didn't come off until he died a little while back."

Here was the horror that the Winchesters hadn't shown. They had no idea just how horrifying a thing it was to think of a little fledgling, or any angel, with their grace bound. But Michael knew. He knew and could share in Gabriel's anger over it. "They _bound_ their own child?" The force of his anger had the air whipping up a little around them and the ground shaking lightly under their feet.

"Yeah. I've been teaching him since then, but…" Gabriel trailed off, shrugging.

Michael's wings showed his surprise. Then they lowered, the tops dipping briefly and twisting in a sign of acquiescence and understanding. "I would like to meet him. And the rest of your little…group. I have yet to meet them face to face. I would like to do so while this vessel still holds me." He stopped, and then – as if thinking about it for the first time – he stretched out his arms a little and looked down at the vessel he wore. "This body, I had no need of consent to enter. There was no soul inside."

"Course not." Gabriel said, scoffing. "It's not exactly standard issue. It's custom made, just like mine."

He kind of enjoyed the surprise on Michael's face when he looked up at him again. "You _made_ your vessel?"

"Yep!" He made his voice pop on the 'p'. Then he grinned. "Made yours too, bro. Don't worry you can keep it. But, there's a catch."

A wary hesitance covered Michael's face and curled his wings. "Of course there is."

Gabriel decided not to be offended by how hesitant he was. He deserved it, really. "You won't be as strong as you'd be if you were in Dean-o. We're at our strongest in our True Vessels. This, it's the equivalent of the power you'd normally have in a vessel that isn't Dean-o. I'm sure you can feel that. But it'll hold you without blowing to smithereens." Being in their True Vessel gave them a power boost because it had the soul of one made for them, in a body meant to house them. That was why neither brother fought as they were now. They wanted that extra power. Not to mention, bodies like this weren't made to hold them and wouldn't stand up to a fight. They'd break apart and explode. But the body Gabriel was offering _would_ hold. It'd hold them without breaking apart, just like a True Vessel would, only without the power boost that their True Vessel's soul would give them.

He could see how he'd caught Michael off guard with this and he knew that there were going to be questions. It would've never occurred to Michael to think of _making_ a vessel. He had to have countless things he wanted to ask. But, really, there weren't really words to explain all of this. Nor was there time, he realized as he looked up at the slowly changing sky. He needed to get back to his family soon. "Look, I'll explain everything later. But I needed you to know so you can understand he's not like the fledglings you're used to. He wasn't raised with us, Mikey. He doesn't know anything about what it is to be an angel. He doesn't know our rules or customs or anything like that. It's like throwing you down to earth and expecting you to be a perfect human. It's not happening. He won't know you and he damn well won't trust you. He barely trusts _me_. He hasn't had an easy life an it's made him skittish. I know you'll want to touch him, but you can't."

That seemed to stun Michael even more and Gabriel understood it. Fledglings were affectionate by nature. They wanted to touch and be touched. "What has happened to him?"

"It's a long story. One I don't even know all the pages to yet." Gabriel admitted. He'd caught glimpses, sure, but gaining Spencer's trust was a slow thing. He had to earn every single bit of it. And the more he earned, the more he learned about his boy and his past, the more he understand the more willing he became to work for it. "Just, be cautious with him, okay?"

"Of course."

"Good." Gabriel said. "Because, you're my brother and I love you, but if you hurt him, Michael – it won't be Luci you're gonna have to worry about." The threat was delivered calmly, just a simple statement of fact backed by a swell of grace and a flare of his pagan power that left no doubt whatsoever to the meaning of his words. When he saw Michael nod back, he relaxed a little. "It won't be easy." Gabriel pointed out, his voice relaxed once more. "No one's gonna want to listen to you, bro."

"They will do what is right."

That had Gabriel snorting. "Oh, yeah, this is gonna be _great_." He muttered. Then, in a normal voice. "They haven't done what you've felt is 'right' so far, Mikey. You really think they're just gonna conform now? You're trying to end the world, in their eyes. They aren't going to want to exactly listen to anything you have to say. Especially if that's still what you're set on." So far, Michael hadn't said if he was going to stop or not. Gabriel eyed him cautiously, testing the waters, waiting to see what his brother would say.

Michael smiled and his wings ruffled in the angelic version of a head shake. "The fight between Lucifer and I _will_ happen, Gabriel. But," he held up a hand, cutting off whatever Gabriel had been about to say. "Not yet. You're right – we've something far more important coming our way."

* * *

It took a little bit of work on Gabriel's part to modify the wards around Bobby Singer's home enough for him to bring Michael inside. He knew that the hunters weren't exactly going to be happy with him later because of it. Hell, they probably weren't going to be happy about _any_ of this, really. That was a risk he was going to take, though. They needed to meet, all of them, and they needed to talk. The best way to do that was to bring Michael to them. It was a gamble, yes, and one he knew could go very badly for him. But he trusted Michael. His brother was an angel of his word. He wouldn't _lie_. That thought wouldn't even occur to him. He always, always told the truth. If he said that he wasn't going to fight, he meant it, and Gabriel trusted it.

Still, maybe he should've taken the time to fly ahead and at least warn the others?

Bobby and Sam looked beyond stunned when Gabriel landed. It was nothing compared to how they were going to look here in a bit. At the moment all they knew was that Gabriel had someone with him. They wouldn't know who it was without being told.

That was remedied rather quickly. The door slapped open and Gabriel turned his head as he felt his fledgling come in. He saw when Spencer's eyes landed on Michael, saw the immediate fear that hit there, and it made his grace ache so damn badly inside. He saw Spencer stumble and was surprised when Dean not only caught him, but actually shoved Spencer behind him and moved protectively in front of him, demanding "What's going on?" with a growl and a glare that made it clear he wanted answers. It was a move that Gabriel would've expected the hunter to do with Sammy, not with Spencer. Something had changed between the two of them while he was gone.

Gabriel put on his most charming smile. "Guys, I'd like you to meet my brother – Mike."

The stunned shock that spread around the room was just a bit funny. It had the trickster in him wanting to snicker. He held it in, though, and watched as Michael looked at everyone. He stopped on Dean for a moment, eyeing the one that was supposed to be his vessel, before finally moving his gaze to Spencer. Another pang hit Gabriel when he saw Spencer take a full step back. "Hello." Michael said to him. The small smile he wore was sad to those that knew him well. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

A quiver ran down Spencer. The grace inside of him drew in even tighter as if trying to keep as far back from Michael as possible.

"Mike?" Bobby repeated, breaking the stare going on between archangel and fledgling, and pulling attention back to the room at large. He was staring at Michael with shock and awe and a hint of fear. "As in, Michael?"

"Yes." Michael said lowly, nodding his head. He tilted it a little and studied Bobby for just a second before tipping his head at him. "Hello, Robert." Then he looked from one brother to the other. "Sam, Dean."

"What the hell?" Dean demanded loudly. He still hadn't moved from his position in front of Spencer but he did shoot a glare over towards his brother, who responded to it almost immediately by starting to inch towards him. It amused Gabriel, especially since he could see the gesture was just slightly unconscious. Years of training had bred in the instinct to follow Dean's directions in dangerous situations.

It was going to take some work to keep this situation from blowing up. Temper would only be met with more temper. So, Gabriel kept his pose casual as he snapped himself up a chair and dropped down into it. His legs kicked up over the one side and a drink was now held in his hand. "So," He drawled out, smirking at the room. "My conversation with Mikey went a little better than I expected." Tilting his head, he looked up at Michael and then gestured to the couch. "Have a seat, bro. Humans tend to find it intimidating when you loom over them."

At least no one had drawn any weapons yet. Not that anything they had here could hurt either Gabriel or Michael. Still, it was the principal of the thing.

Michael took his advice and sat down on the couch, close to Gabriel's chair. He didn't look as casual as Gabriel did in a vessel, but nor did he look anywhere near as stiff as Castiel looked most of the time. This wasn't the first time Michael had been in a vessel.

It was no surprise that it was Sam, ever the voice of reason, who spoke up. "Gabriel. What exactly is going on?" His voice was flat and even but there was a hint of threat underneath, a warning that he better have a damn good explanation for this. He'd reached his brother by now and the two stood side by side with the little fledgling behind them, while Bobby still stood at his desk, though he had moved to the side that put him nearest his boys. It very neatly split the room in half, a distinct _them_ and _us_. Gabriel was surprised by how little he liked being on the side of _them_.

Dean snorted at Sam's question. "What do you think is going on, Sammy? I told you we couldn't trust that douche." He squared his shoulders and glared hotly at Michael. "I'm not saying Yes. So whatever poor sucker you've convinced to let you wear him, you're stuck there."

Michael's wings rose up a little and he turned to look at Gabriel with raised eyebrows. " _I'd heard he was a rather, volatile one. Is he really so brave, or simply foolish?_ " He asked in Enochian.

Laughter bubbled up Gabriel's throat. "Both." He said, still in English. "Definitely both."

A hint of the humor not many got to see sparkled in Michael's eyes. When he turned back towards Dean, the ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I'm not here to pressure you into saying Yes, Dean Winchester. Nor am I 'wearing' some 'poor sucker'."

"Yeah, right." Dean interrupted, scoffing.

Before anything else could be said, the young fledgling who had been so quiet up until now apparently decided that he'd had enough of staying in the background. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder, just a brief touch that clearly looked like a request for silence, and then he slipped between the two Winchesters until he stood in front of them instead of behind them. His spine was straight and his shoulders were back, even if Gabriel could see the fear in his eyes as clear as day. For all his bravado, he didn't look at Michael. He very deliberately did not look at him. Instead, his eyes were locked right on Gabriel, watching him carefully. Spencer could have a very unnerving stare sometimes. He had a way of looking at you that left you feeling like you were being analyzed straight down to your very last cell. Gabriel kept still underneath it and didn't squirm. He met Spencer's gaze and let the fledgling see whatever it was he needed to see.

After a few seconds that felt much longer than they really were, Spencer nodded. When he spoke his voice was low but it carried the weight of his conviction. "You wouldn't bring someone here if their intention was to hurt any of us." It was said firmly, a statement instead of a question, and Gabriel smiled at the show of trust. "No, I wouldn't, kiddo."

"I apologize for startling you or making you uncomfortable." Michael said, and it was again clear that it was _Spencer_ he was speaking to. He was barely paying anyone else any attention. His eyes were locked on Spencer, staring at him with a sense of fear and wonder that Gabriel understood. It was the same thing he'd felt when he'd first realized that there was a human fledgling in front of him. When he'd realized just what it meant. But Michael's tone was still gentle and easy, the same soothing tone quality to it that Gabriel associated with his own early days when his big brothers had still been happy and his Father and his brothers had been his entire world. "I mean you no harm. I simply wanted to come meet you." One of Michael's wings twitched like it wanted to reach out to Spencer.

A soft, barely noticeable shiver ran down Spencer's body. If his wings were out, they would've been drawn in around him at the moment in a protective gesture. He did, however, lean back just the slightest bit towards the Winchesters.

Michael smothered a sigh and pushed himself up to his feet once more. "Perhaps it might be better if I came back at a different time. I'll allow Gabriel to explain to you what's going on. Maybe the next time we see one another, you can all feel more comfortable in the knowledge that I mean you no harm." He turned to look down at Gabriel and one of his wings brushed against one of Gabriel's. When he spoke, he switched to Enochian, keeping their words private. " _Take the time to explain to your group here what you can. I'll go home and handle my side of things. But we should meet soon, brother. There is still Lucifer to deal with._ "

" _I know_." Gabriel said with a little twist of his lips. " _Don't remind me. Somehow, I doubt he's going to be as easy as this._ "

A soft smile and a curl of his wing were all that Michael gave him before he vanished from the room. That left Gabriel with two pissed off looking hunters, one pissed off but mostly curious looking hunter, and a fledgling that was silently watching him in obvious preparation for whatever was to come. In true form, Gabriel didn't flinch in the least from the glares that were being sent his way. He snorted and then snapped his fingers. Immediately, everyone but Spencer flinched, but Gabriel had only snapped up drinks for the room. A tray holding drinks appeared on Bobby's desk and his own cocktail appeared in his hand. "Aren't you all a jumpy bunch? Relax, guys. Half the work is done!"

"Are you kidding me?" Dean demanded.

Always the calmer of the two, Sam spoke over Dean, cutting off whatever other angry words might've come out of his mouth. "Gabriel, you've got to give us a little something here. I mean, yesterday as far as we knew Michael still wanted to wear Dean like a cheap suit and was all for the apocalypse. Now you show up with him out of nowhere in a house that should've been warded against him and you don't even really explain what's going on. You guys just say that your talk went well and then you take to staring at Spencer. Can you see where we might feel just a little out of sorts with all that?"

"You're so diplomatic, kiddo." Gabriel said, a fond smile touching his lips. Then he sighed and slumped back a little more in his chair. "I don't know what else you guys want me to say. I told you I was going to talk to him – I did. I told you the conversation went better than I planned. Mikey's on our side now. Shouldn't you guys be, y'know, celebrating?"

"You expect us to just believe that, what?" Dean paused and snorted. "You two just talked and now he's all Team Free Will?"

Gabriel's lip curled up a little at the team name. Go figure they'd named themselves something like that. The little idiots. He rolled his eyes but let that slide for the moment. "I told you he'd be the easy one."

"How? What the hell did you say that was enough to convince him to stop this?"

"You really wanna look a gift horse in the mouth, Deano?"

It was sort of adorable and amusing to watch the confusion that spread over Spencer's face at that phrase. His lips moved like he was testing that sentence out for himself, trying to find a way to make sense of it. That only made Gabriel's grin grow. That kid – sometimes Gabriel really wondered how on earth they ever managed to talk to each other. Gabriel was all naughty jokes and sly innuendo and mocking sentences, while Spencer could speak like a dictionary sometimes, had absolutely no social graces, missed pretty much every sexual comment sent his direction, and could be as clueless as Castiel when it came to figures of speech and the random references that most people in this group made.

"I don't think it's unreasonable to want to know what the hell could get your big brother to back off." Bobby spoke up, his voice calm albeit gruff. He'd moved away from his boys and was back over by his desk. To Gabriel's surprise, he actually took one of the drinks off the tray that had been snapped up. The archangel had figured Bobby would be one who wouldn't ever trust something from him. Instead, the hunter took the glass of whiskey and sat down in his desk chair, sharp eyes watching Gabriel.

He'd held out under much sterner gazes than that, though. They weren't going to get anything out of him until he was ready. Eventually he knew he'd have to tell them what was going on and all about the prophecy but for now he wanted to just focus on one problem and not let this one get in the way. His eyes flickered briefly to Spencer, who had inched just a bit closer, and he admitted to himself that it wasn't the Winchesters he was worrying about with this. Voice calm, Gabriel said, "Let's deal with one problem at a time. The Apocalypse first. Then, I promise, I'll explain everything."

That seemed to be the breaking point for Dean. He stormed forward to better glare down at Gabriel, who was still sitting in his chair. "We deserve some damn answers!"

If he thought his intimidation was going to work, he had another thing coming. Gabriel took a drink of his cocktail and then arched one eyebrow up at Dean in a completely calm look. "And you'll get them…" He paused, taking another drink, "…after we deal with Luce."

"Gabriel," It was Spencer who spoke this time. His voice was soft, but one hand came up to brush against the wing that had unconsciously started to reach out for him. The feel of his fingers through Gabriel's feathers had him looking over towards the kid. He found Spencer watching him carefully, but openly, those big eyes of his so damn trusting on Gabriel's face. "We're not asking that you give us everything. We're just asking that you trust us enough to give us _something_."

Dammit. Oh, damn the kid. Between those big freaking eyes and his plea for trust, which only reminded Gabriel how much Spencer was trusting him and how he should show some in return, there was no way he could completely deny him. He huffed out a breath and mock glared at the fledgling. "Has Sammy been giving you lessons on puppy eyes?" He sighed and pressed his wing out a little more, curling it around Spencer in a half embrace that was more to soothe himself than anything else. He was going to have to give them something here, as little as he wanted to. "There's a prophecy." Gabriel said slowly, reluctantly. "One that only the Firstborn know. And it's coming up on us fast."

"What kind of prophecy?" Sam asked.

"One that trumps any pissing match my brothers wanna get into. Michael recognizes that. We're hoping Luci will, too. But if he doesn't, we need to be prepared to take him out of the picture, _quickly._ The sooner we get the rings, the sooner we can confront Lucifer and get this done with. So I need you to focus on finding the other Horsemen right now and when this is all over, I'll answer any questions I can. But first, we need to deal with Luci."

Before they could get any more out of him, he rose from his chair and snapped away the chair and the drinks that hadn't been taken. "Well! It's been a rather exciting day. You guys get your rest and the kiddo and I will be back in the morning." HE gave them no chance to voice any protests they wanted to say. Another snap and he and Spencer were gone, appearing once more in the living room of his island beach house.

Spencer didn't even falter anymore at the change in venue. He still stood just a little ways away from Gabriel, still watching him carefully.

There were plenty of times that Gabriel had to remind himself that Spencer might be young by angelic standards, but he wasn't by human standards. He'd lived a human life and was more intelligent than most. He had a quick mind that made amazing connections long before most humans could, and most of the time with less information than someone else would need. It was a bit of his angelic heritage that had shown through, though really, most if it was genetics. But sometimes Gabriel forgot that all of that was sitting underneath the quiet surface of the kid. Until moments like these, when Spencer watched him as if he could see straight through him and then opened his mouth and proved to Gabriel that no matter how hard he was trying to keep things hidden, he wasn't as good as he thought he was – especially with someone who could see the emotion in his wings that Gabriel could never fully suppress without hiding them completely.

"Whatever secret you're keeping – it involves me." Spencer said. It wasn't really even a question. The way that Spencer said it told Gabriel he already clearly knew the answer.

Gabriel couldn't lie to him. Especially not about this. "Yeah."

"Do I…am I…"

Everything about Gabriel softened. He knew what Spencer was asking and it made his grace ache a bit to hear the kid even attempt to voice this kind of fear. "You're nothing evil, Spencer." He said softly. "This has nothing to do with you going bad or anything like that."

The kid watched him a moment longer and then nodded. "Okay."

Surprise had Gabriel's eyebrows going up. "Okay?" That was all he had to say? Just, okay?

A hint of a smile touched Spencer's lips. He brushed his fingers lightly over the wing still around him. "I told you I'd trust you, Gabriel. That hasn't changed. You've done nothing to make me think I shouldn't. I'm trusting that you mean what you say, and that you'll explain things later."

Gabriel knew better than anyone just how big a deal that trust was. He watched his fledgling as Spencer bade him good night and then made his way upstairs to the room that had become his since the moment Gabriel first brought him here. Was the kid ever going to stop surprising him?

While Spencer went up to sleep, Gabriel stayed downstairs and prepared himself to plan. It was time to get serious on the stopping Lucifer side of things. They had Michael on their side, and his brother was going upstairs to take care of things up there and try to get Heaven to back off. That just left them Lucifer and Hell to deal with.

Somehow, Gabriel had a feeling this brother wasn't going to be as easy.

* * *

 _Let me know what you think :) Remember, reviews are gold, my dears. I'd love to hear what you think about this chapter and about Michael. Did you like him? Do you think he'll stay on their side? How do you think (or how do you WANT?) Lucifer's going to react?_

 _You can find me at tumblr as thequeervet :)_


	19. Between Hope and Destruction Part 6

Sam curled his hands around his mug of coffee and stared down at the dark liquid as if it would hold the answers to the universe. Right then, he could've used a few of those. Things had already been confusing enough to begin with. After yesterday…

He still couldn't quite process it all. It seemed, insane. Too good to be true, really. Just one talk with Gabriel and suddenly Michael was on their side? Sam wanted to believe it, he did, but things were never that easy for them. Winchesters never caught a break like that. He had a feeling this time wasn't going to be any different. Especially considering Gabriel's parting comment. What prophecy were they talking about? The fact that Gabriel said it 'trumps any pissing match my brothers wanna get into' wasn't all that reassuring. What could be so bad that it beat out the damn _Apocalypse?_ Thinking about it had kept Sam up most of the night. Between that and the nightmares that were never far away, he'd barely gotten any sleep at all.

Judging by his brother's face as Dean came walking into the room, he hadn't done all that well on sleep either. Then again that could also be explained by the silent angel that followed him into the room. His appearance had Sam's eyebrows going up. Well then, it looked like _someone_ had had themselves a visitor last night. Any other time and Sam might've had fun teasing his brother about this. For now he just logged that little fact away to bring up later along with a mental note to buy some lube and stick it through Dean's stuff and freak him out.

The older Winchester went straight for the coffee pot and Sam pretended not to notice the generous amount of alcohol that ended up in the mug with the coffee.

Castiel was the one to greet Sam. "Good morning, Sam."

"Mornin' Cas."

The kitchen was quiet for a few except for the shuffling as everyone got settled in at the kitchen table – which had returned to regular size overnight. It wasn't until the three of them were seated that Dean broke the silence. It wasn't any surprise that he did it in his usual blunt way. "So," He said, curling his hands around his mug and settling his elbows on the table. "You look like you slept about as well as I did. This shit keep you up too?"

Sam's lips quirked up and he huffed out a breath. Holding his own cup, he sat back in his seat and watched his brother across the table. "Yeah, a bit. It, I don't know, it seems..."

"...batshit insane?" Dean supplied. He snorted. "Yeah. This whole thing seems insane. We've got the archangel Gabriel on our side out of freaking nowhere, a fledgling wanting to help us, and now we've got Michael suddenly batting for our team all because he and his baby brother had a chat."

Sam shrugged one shoulder and took a drink. "He seemed honest." That was the thing, too. Gabriel had seemed honest. Sam wasn't trying to judge or gauge Michael's actions. Nothing about those seemed to make any sort of sense to him. But, Gabriel? Sam had studied him plenty of times. Everything about him yesterday had seemed to indicate that he was being honest with them.

The idea of Gabriel being honest had Dean looking at him like he'd just smelled something particularly unpleasant. "He's the freaking trickster, Sam. I don't care if he's an archangel, too – he's the trickster. Can we really believe him?"

"It's kind of hard not to." Sam said. His eyes darted over to Castiel, who was watching them quietly, and then back to Dean. "Michael was _here_ , Dean, and he didn't do anything."

"Cause that's totally not worrisome."

"I believe Sam is right. If Michael wished to harm you, he would have done so." Castiel said, speaking up for the first time. His voice was low and serious, just as it always was, yet it seemed to hold an extra weight to it today. "Once he was beyond the wards around this property, he could have chosen to do anything to any one of you, and none of us, Gabriel included, would've been able to stop him. The fact that he stayed only to talk and then left again when he realized he was making others uncomfortable suggests that he was here with no ill intentions."

"You mean when he was making _Spencer_ uncomfortable." Dean cut in.

"Yeah." Sam shook his head, still not quite sure what to make of that little fact. It was something he'd noticed as well and something that he'd thought plenty about overnight. "He sure seemed to have a thing for Spencer, didn't he? I thought he would've been focused on you," he gestured towards Dean with his mug. "What with you being his vessel and all. But he really had eyes for Spencer."

"Spencer is a fledgling. A human fledgling." Castiel said. "Fledglings are important to angels. They are loved and treasured."

Again, Sam shook his head. "It was more than that, though."

"Sam's right." Dean agreed. "There was something else there. You think it's got something to do with that prophecy he mentioned?"

 _Yes_ , Sam's brain said quickly. But Sam kept that thought to himself. He wasn't entirely sure about the prophecy yet and he didn't want to say anything until he had more facts. "I get the feeling they aren't gonna be telling us anything about that anytime soon. Not that we don't have enough on our plates already."

"So we just let it go?" Dean demanded.

It was Castiel who answered that with a simple "Do we have any other choice?"

* * *

Bobby eventually came downstairs and joined their group in the kitchen. More coffee had been made and everyone except Castiel had a cup as they all sat around and discussed their plans for not only trying to catch the Horsemen, but for also trying to figure out where the Devil was even at. Eventually they were going to have to go after him if Gabriel's whole plan here came together. "We wanna stop him, we gotta know where he's hiding at." Bobby said.

"Why?" Sam asked, surprising them. All eyes turned to him and he shrugged a little under those looks. "Does it matter if we know where he is if we have nothing to stop him and no way of locking him back up yet? We should do what we can in hunting down and stopping the Horsemen. I'm sure once we have all that, either Gabriel or even Michael now would be able to help tell us where Lucifer is. But there's no real point in finding him and going after him before we're prepared. We have nothing to use against him right now."

"We could go after the Colt." Dean suggested. "We know who has it now. We can track it down and use it against him."

Another voice entirely answered that. "Won't work." Gabriel said. They all looked over to find him sitting on Bobby's kitchen counter with Spencer beside him, the fledgling leaning back against the counter and just a little against Gabriel. He looked so different from the kid that Sam first remembered meeting. Circumstances, events, or maybe Gabriel, had all combined to change Spencer. He didn't look like the same nerdy kid in slacks and sweaters that they'd met in Bennington. This kid looked, different, and it wasn't just the clothes – though those _were_ different. Spencer was dressed like he was on some island vacation. Khaki colored slacks, much better fitting than what he wore before, and a long-sleeved white linen shirt like you'd wear in a place with a much warmer climate. His hair was loose and shaggy like normal, half hiding his face as he tilted his head.

Wherever they were staying, it was obviously warmer than South Dakota, and yet Spencer didn't seem to notice a chill in the outfit he wore. Another change coming over him as he learned his powers? Sam remembered Gabriel saying something about Spencer probably not needing sleep back when he'd had them in his 'lesson'. Maybe, as Spencer's powers grew, he was slowly becoming more and more angel. The thought was intriguing and one that definitely bore thinking about.

The archangel, however, looked just the same as always in his jeans, t-shirt and canvas jacket, with a candy bar in hand that he was unwrapping. Sam watched him pull the wrapper free and then break the candy bar in half, offering part of it to Spencer. As the kid took it, smiling faintly, Gabriel smirked up at the others. "There very few things that Colt can't kill – an you better believe archangels are one of em."

Dean, idiot that he was, seemed intent on pushing his luck pretty much every time he encountered Gabriel. Sam had a feeling his brother often saw the trickster and forgot that, all the trickster stuff aside, this being was an archangel and therefore just as deadly as Raphael, Michael and Lucifer. Somehow Dean managed to have some proper sense of fear for them, even if he didn't admit to it, but he got around Gabriel and he just seemed to see the trickster and forget about the fact that said trickster could choose to smite him if he pissed him off enough. Case in point, Dean glared at him now and said "Maybe we'll test it on you."

Instant tension snapped through Spencer's body and wide brown eyes narrowed right on Dean. However, Gabriel's hand settling on his shoulder kept him quiet. The room seemed to crackle with an energy that left the hairs on Sam's arms standing on end and had Castiel making a small move towards Dean's side. Gabriel paid none of them any attention; his eyes sharpened and stared right at Dean. "Go right ahead, bucko." The light in Gabriel's eyes darkened and twisted into something more, something edgier and a lot more dangerous, and his smirk was razor sharp. His inner Loki was showing through and reminding them all that he was dangerous for more reasons than most. "But when I get back up – and I _will_ get back up – you had better be long gone, cause then it's _my turn_."

He was quiet for a moment as his words sank in. Then he sat back and the crackle was gone from the air just as quickly as the deadly look was wiped off his face. In their place was his familiar mocking smirk. "Besides, you guys don't need to focus on Luci. I know how to find him. You just focus on getting the rings from the other Horsemen. Mikey and I are gonna handle Death."

"You're gonna 'handle' Death?" Bobby repeated skeptically.

The archangel grinned. "Yep! Between us we can summon him and get him to let us borrow his ring for a bit. Better than letting Lucifer do it. Trust me, you would _not_ like the way he'd raise Death, I promise. So Mike and I are gonna beat him to it. Then we're gonna go and try and have a talk with Raffy and see if we can't get the Heaven end of things taken care of. Which is why," He lifted an arm now, wrapping it around Spencer and squeezing him before ruffling his hair. At the glare that got him, he smirked. "I'm gonna leave my little sparrow here with you folks. It's safer for him here and he wants to stay and help. So, what say you make sure he doesn't get hurt, hm?" He looked up and his gaze didn't go to Castiel or Bobby or Dean – it landed right on Sam. And there was something there, something just a little electric in that gaze. "I'm trusting you with him. Don't screw that up."

They held gazes for one long second before Gabriel's grin flashed on his face once more and he vanished with a snap.

In the quiet of the kitchen, the annoyed sound that Dean made was loud and clear. "That's getting really old, really fast. For someone who's not in charge he sure gives a helluva lot of orders."

"He's an archangel, boy. What do you expect?" Bobby asked him. The way he said it and the way he looked at Dean clearly asked just how stupid he was. "Besides, it aint like you've come up with any better plan. He's got plans and so far they all seem to be working. Seems to be that's something we should be happy about."

Sam could only nod his agreement. "I don't like the way he goes about it, Dean, but you have to admit that he's gotten results so far. An sure, he's a bit of a dick about it, an we know he's got some other game plan going on here that we don't know about, but right now the things he's doing are actually helping to stop the apocalypse. Can we really complain about that?"

Their words seemed to have shocked Dean. He looked from one to the other like he couldn't believe that they weren't siding with him. When he looked at Castiel, the angel was silent, saying absolutely nothing. But apparently Dean read something in his expression because the older Winchester looked disgusted as he spun to look at Spencer next. "What about you? Doesn't this bother you?"

Shrugging, Spencer put the last bite of the candy bar Gabriel had given him into his mouth. "No."

"He doesn't tell you everything." Dean pointed out, voice sharp.

If he thought that would deter Spencer, he was wrong. "I know." The kid said. Then he shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, settling back a bit more against the counter. "He's not doing it maliciously, though."

"Oh, yeah, cause it's always a good idea to keep things from people."

Spencer raised his eyebrows at the hunter. "Did your Dad ever tell you everything? Do you tell your brother everything?" At Dean's surprised look, the young genius flushed a little and looked away, shrugging one shoulder uncomfortably. "I get the feeling that's kind of like what he's doing. He's not keeping things from me to be cruel or to trick me. He sees me as a kid in a lot of ways. I think it just doesn't occur to him to tell me some things, and other things he probably keeps from me in an effort to, I don't know, protect me or something like that."

"You are his." Castiel said lowly. Sam counted it an improvement when Spencer only slightly flinched from the angel's voice. If Castiel noticed it, and he had to have, he chose to ignore it. "He's Claimed you in the eyes of all angels, made himself responsible for you. Though we have no parent except for our Father, you could say it is almost like being a parent. He's taken you under his wing and into his nest."

"Yeah, that doesn't sound creepy." Dean mumbled.

Spencer, however, looked almost – pleased by that description. There was just a faint hint of something happy around the edges of his eyes as well as something else that Sam wanted to label as wonder. Like he couldn't quite believe that what Castiel was saying was true. Was it just the idea of an archangel 'Claiming' him that got that reaction, or was it deeper than that? Did Spencer really have that hard of a time believing that someone would want him? Sam hated the thought that maybe that was true. It was just, everything he'd seen so far suggested that Spencer was someone who wasn't really used to affection and things like that.

"All of this is well and dandy, but why don't we try focusing on more important things for the moment?" Bobby interjected, drawing them back onto what was important. He pushed up from his chair and took his empty coffee mug over to the sink. "There's only so much research that can be done here and you boys are starting to drive me crazy, getting in my way while I do it. I got a call about a case that I thought you should go check out. Might be connected to our Horsemen, might not. Either way, it'll get you outta my house for a while."

"A case?" That had Dean perking up. Really, it had Sam perking up as well. They'd been cooped up here a while and that just wasn't their style. They needed to be doing things. Bobby was right, there was only so much research that could be done here, and the group of them all trapped in one place trying to research wasn't the best way to go about it. Sam and Dean always did better out on the road. Then they could at least hunt and help people while they played the waiting game on finding the Horsemen.

The idea of a case sounded great. But, as Sam followed Bobby into the living room, he cast a glance over at their extra companion and wondered how exactly this was going to work out. Gabriel had left Spencer in their care - in my care, his brain reminded him, thinking back to the way that Gabriel had looked at him when he'd spoken of trusting them with Spencer – and taking Spencer out on a case wasn't exactly the safest thing in the world. They couldn't just leave him here, though. Something told Sam the fledgling wouldn't exactly go for that plan.

* * *

Sam wasn't the only one that was surprised when Dean didn't even put in a token protest about Spencer coming with them. In fact, he seemed almost eager about it, which had Spencer feeling just a bit cautious. Why on earth would Dean _want_ him to come along? The young fledgling watched him with a furrow between his brows that showed just how strange his found this. Seeing that look, Dean snorted. "What? If we're gonna be working together on something like the apocalypse, don't you think it's a good idea to see if we can even manage working together on a simple hunt? It's the best way to figure out if we can work with each other without killing each other."

Underneath that Spencer heard the words that Dean wasn't saying. Working on a hunt would be a great start to building trust between them like they'd talked about before. They needed to be able to trust each other if they were all going to potentially go into battle together against the Horsemen, let alone against Lucifer and then whatever came after that. A hunt was a great way to start building the trust they'd need for that. When put in those terms, Spencer couldn't protest it.

At least, not until Dean said "But before we go I wanna go outside with you and see just how well you can handle yourself."

Oh, no. No, no, absolutely not. Spencer felt his eyes go wide and his body took an instinctive step back. "Excuse me?" There was just a hint of a squeak to his voice that he couldn't quite keep out. They wanted him to do _what_ now, exactly? Spencer's eyes darted over to Castiel, who was in the living room with Bobby looking at a map of something or other, and then over to Sam, who was watching him with a calm understanding on his face. "No, no. I have no problems coming and helping with the research of a hunt, or with talking to people, but I don't, I mean I'm not a fighter. I can if I have to but I don't need to. And I really don't need to against you."

"Spencer, we're not trying to be jerks." Sam said. "I know you're not comfortable with this. But we just need to make sure that you're ready for what's coming at us. I get that fighting isn't something you usually do, but these aren't the usual circumstances."

"You don't understand." Spencer told them, looking from one to the other. He chewed on his lip and his hands were twisting together in front of him in a familiar, nervous gesture. "I just…I'm not graceful, okay? I'm just as likely to hurt myself as I am to hurt you. That's why I'm great at researching and all those other things." Things that didn't involve him getting beat up by someone like Dean Winchester.

"You're not gonna hurt me." Dean said confidently, almost sounding offended at the very idea. "Didn't you have to have training anyways to be an agent?"

"They had to make exceptions on most physical things just to allow me into the field."

Dean's eyebrows shot up at that. "Great. You're only making me want to do this more and more, Doc."

That was how the three of them ended up outside together and Spencer found himself holding a gun in his hand and facing a freaking _line of cans_ set on the side of a truck bed. This, at least, he could do somewhat. He wasn't the best shot but he'd improved over the years. Aaron had made sure to train him after that last time that he hadn't passed his gun qualification and Spencer drew on those lessons now as he set his body into the stance that his boss had drilled into him. In his head he heard Aaron's voice – ' _Front sight, trigger press, follow through. You do those three things, you'll hit your target every time._ '

 _All right,_ Spencer thought to himself, lifting his gun in his hands. _Front sight, trigger press, follow through. Front sight, trigger press, follow through_. He drew in one last breath to steady himself and then took aim and fired.

When he was done, he stood there and stared, just as stunned as the two men beside him. He'd done it. He'd hit the cans. No, correction – he'd hit _every_ can. Perfectly.

He stared as Dean held up can after can and showed a perfect hole, dead center on each one.

The shocks just kept coming. Spencer was tried out on every gun they had and on each one, including the shotgun, he tested perfect. His aim had never been like this before.

"It must have something to do with you becoming a bit more angel." Sam suggested, watching Spencer's face and most likely seeing his open shock there. "I don't think I've ever seen an angel miss any kind of shot they take, with anything. Your grace enhances you in a lot of ways. It make sense that it would enhance your senses, which in turn would make your ability to aim a whole lot better. You already had the mechanics of shooting down before. This just, improved it."

"I guess." Spencer said slowly. It was worth thinking about, at least.

"Yeah, well, let's see how you do in a little hand to hand." Dean called out as he tossed down another can. His grin was wide when he strolled up to Spencer and took the gun from him, passing it to Sam. "C'mon, Poindexter. Let's see what you got."

This was the part that Spencer had been looking forward to the very least of all. "Dean," he tried to protest, voice just a bit weak, but the hunter was already shaking his head before Spencer could even get out anymore words. "Uh-uh, kid. You wanna come with us…" Stopping in front of him, Dean slipped into a defensive pose and grinned at him, "…then you gotta prove you got what it takes. So c'mon, let's do this."

"You look far too pleased at the idea of hitting me." Spencer felt the need to point out. Still, he shifted his own stance. This was going to suck, and it was going to hurt.

The hunter grinned even more. Then, with barely a warning, he moved.

For the first few blows Spencer fought hard to dodge out of the way. Derek had once told him that there was no shame in dodging a blow in a fight. "You're scrawny, kid." He'd told Spencer, grinning when it had earned him a protest. "Hey! I'm not insulting you. You're small, that's just the way it is. That means you aren't gonna be able to throw a punch like me, or hit like Hotch. You gotta learn to use what _you_ have. You're small and you're fast. That means you dodge out of the way and use your brain. Make your hits count."

That's what he tried to do now. He dodged out of the way of the hits that Dean threw and tried to wait for his opening or for something else to happen. It came a lot quicker than he'd thought it would and in a way that none of them had expected – not even Spencer.

Spencer saw Dean's fist flying at him and instinct took over. He took a step to the right and twisted his body in a way he hadn't even known he knew how to do, neatly dodging the blow with a move much smoother than any he'd showed so far. It was easy to see that he and Dean were _both_ surprised. However, Dean recovered quicker and followed it up with another blow. This one actually managed to connect. When it did, they all got their second surprise of the night. The force of Dean's fist slammed into Spencer's shoulder – and Spencer didn't move. The blow didn't even make him stumble back.

It did, however, have Dean quickly yanking his hand back in and cursing, long and loud.

The sound that Dean's fist had made as it connected with Spencer's shoulder was an unmistakable one. Spencer would think in a moment about how the hell Dean had managed to _break his fingers_ by punching Spencer in the freaking _shoulder_ , but in that second all he felt was guilt and a tiny bit of panic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Spencer reached out, running solely on instinct once more, an instinct that had yet to steer him wrong, and he curled his hands carefully around Dean's hand. Before he could think about what he was doing he sent a cooling wave of grace over the broken bones and felt them knit back together.

"Damn." Sam murmured as he walked up to join them where they'd been fighting only moments ago. His eyes were locked on Dean's hand, which was back to normal when the hunter drew it free from Sam's grip. Seeing no bruising, no broken bones to go with the crunch they'd all heard, he let out a whistle and looked up at Spencer. "Apparently you're more angelic than we realized."

"I'm so sorry." Spencer repeated. He was staring at Dean's hand and he knew his guilt was written all over his face.

Dean shook his hand out and flexed his fingers as if testing them. Then, with a half grin that was part amused and part wry, he reached that hand out and clapped Spencer on the shoulder – gently. "It's no problem, Doc. Better we know. Now, let's go get our shit together so we can go. I'm ready to hit the road."

Before they could get too far away, Spencer concentrated and focused his grace like Gabriel had been teaching him, and then he lifted a hand and snapped. The boys looked back at the sound of his snap and found him standing there with three bags beside him. Two of them the boys recognized as theirs. At their surprised looks, Spencer smiled shyly. "I figured it was the least I could do."

"Oh that's definitely gonna come in handy." Dean said with a grin.


	20. Between Hope and Destruction Part 7

Spending hours in a car with the Winchesters wasn't exactly Spencer's idea of a great time. They played their music loud, it was all classic rock, and they didn't really try to say much for the first hour and a half of the trip. That left Spencer curled up in the backseat staring out the window and hoping that eventually the music might at least go down to a level that didn't leave him feeling like the band was trying to play inside of his head.

He'd always been good at entertaining himself, though. It didn't take long before he was folding his legs up and tucking his feet underneath himself and reaching for the light that was growing steadily brighter day by day. Spencer had become so much more connected to his grace since Gabriel had begun to teach him about it. He saw it so much clearer now when he looked inside. Not just the light of his grace, but the light of his soul as well. It was becoming less 'inside of him' and more just 'him' with each passing day.

However, him getting more comfortable with it meant that he was also more willing to use it, and that was something that wasn't necessarily good for the boys in the front seat. Especially since their passenger was bored.

When however they were listening to this time hit a note that had Spencer wincing and wondering how on earth people listened to this kind of stuff on a daily basis, he decided to take matters into his own hands a little. Or, fingers.

A very quiet snap and then there was a slight scratching sound from the stereo before the tape simply cut out.

He'd thought about ruining it. Only for a second, though. He couldn't really be that mean. But stopping it from playing? Oh, he had absolutely no qualms about that. He sat there happily and blessed the brief moment of quiet. Not even Dean's annoyed "What the hell?" really bothered him.

When Sam snuck a look at him in the mirror, Spencer kept his face calm and composed, giving away nothing. The twinkle in the hunter's eye told him he wasn't succeeding as well as he'd hoped.

Spencer ignored the continued grumbles from the front seat and tried to smother a yawn. Another snap brought him a cup of coffee - which proceeded to almost be spilled against his hand when Dean jerked the wheel. "What the hell?" The older Winchester snapped, eyes darting up to the mirror and back to the road again. "What're you snapping up back there?"

Eyebrows raised, Spencer held up his coffee. "Um...coffee."

"Dude." He could see the scowl that grew on Dean's features. "You can't just sit back there snapping things."

"Why?"

"Cause I'm still not used to the fact that you can do it and I'm used to needing to flinch from a snap, all right?"

That wiped away Spencer's confusion. He ducked his head down, letting his bangs go over his face in the hopes of hiding his smile. Though he knew that Gabriel hadn't exactly been the friendliest to these hunters, he also knew that not all the things he'd done to them were necessarily 'mean'. They'd had their purpose. Still, he could see why snapping would be something that might set them on edge. "I'll endeavor to keep my snapping to a minimum." Spencer promised them. "However, bear in mind I have to practice sometimes. It's the only way I'm going to gain any control."

"Snapping up coffee is practice?" Dean asked him skeptically.

Spencer nodded. "Yes. For the most part, Gabriel's had me using my grace to either call up something that's already in existence and transport it to me, or take something that's already there and change it – such as extending Mr. Singer's table. But I've been gaining more control over that so he's having me work more on my illusions and my ability to create something out of nothing. It's much easier to start with something small and something I'm already quite familiar with, such as a good cup of coffee." Lifting his cup, he took a small drink and made a happy sound. He'd gotten it right. Then he looked back up at the boys. "Speaking of – would either of you like a cup?"

"A cup of potentially bad angel practice coffee? No, thanks." Dean said. Sam, however, twisted in his seat and smiled at him as he said "Yeah, actually. That sounds great."

His smile was contagious. Spencer found himself returning it without even thinking about it. He held up his free hand poised to snap. "Any special requests?"

"Pumpkin spice?"

Dean huffed at that, obviously ready to mock his little brother, but Spencer simply said "Good choice" and focused before snapping. A tall to-go cup appeared in Sam's hand. Just for the sake of being amusing, the cup was decorated like his was. Only whereas Spencer's had a map of Middle Earth wrapped around it, Sam's was tall and blue and decorated like the TARDIS. It made Sam chuckle a little before he took a drink. Spencer waited patiently, only relaxing when he saw Sam's pleased expression. "It's great, Spencer. Really great. Thank you!"

"Absolutely."

"You girls done gossiping over your froofy coffees?" Dean asked them mockingly. "You think maybe we could get around to discussing the case now?"

Spencer refrained from pointing out that Dean had been the one preventing them from talking about the case by blasting his music for most of the car ride. Holding back his comments, and the roll of his eyes, he settled back in his seat as Sam began to explain their case to them.

* * *

The case itself wasn't any real tough one from what Spencer could see. He had to agree with Sam's assessment that it was some restless spirit tied to an old, haunted house on the edge of town in Bismarck, North Dakota. It was just going to take a bit of research on Sam's part to find out who might've died there and a bit of watch duty on Dean's part if this took too long to keep people away from the house so no one got hurt until Sam could tell them all who they were after and where the body was buried. But all the attacks had happened at night, so they had until nightfall before Dean had to go out and play guard dog.

None of that was really anything that Spencer could help on. But he hadn't really come with the expectation of helping on this case like he'd told them. He had sort of known that he wasn't going to be much help on cases. Really, he'd come with them because he knew that they weren't going to just head back to Bobby's after this. These two weren't made for that. They were made for the road, for moving and working and saving people, no matter what else was going on. If he wanted to be able to get more comfortable around them, to be able to work with them, he needed to be _with_ them. That was one of the main reasons that he was here. If they needed his help, of course he'd help them, but he had a feeling they weren't going to ask for it.

That was fine. They wouldn't have to ask him. With him here, he'd be able to see when they needed it and step in without them ever having to ask.

Of course, he still gave them all a little bit of space as well so that he could be here without crowding them. He had his own room, much to Dean's annoyance, just a little further down the row. The last thing he wanted was to be rooming with these two or right up next to them. Not that he really thought Gabriel would stay away that long or anything like that. Still, it was better to be prepared, and he didn't want to get stuck bunking with the brothers. So he'd gotten himself a room, taken his things in there and warded it all, and then came down here to their room.

They were still settling in when Dean opened the door to his knock and let him in. A look around showed that they hadn't warded their room yet or anything. They were still unpacking their weapons. Wanting to be of some use, Spencer hesitantly offered "Would you like me to get your room warded while you guys unpack?"

"Sure." Dean answered. He pulled a marker from his bag and tossed it over to Spencer, who fumbled for a moment before managing to catch it. The fledgling looked down at it and furrowed his brows before he looked back up. Why, exactly, did he need this? Sam must've seen his look before he gestured towards the walls. "It's for the wards. Not perfect, we know, but it does in a pinch."

"Don't motels wonder why on earth you leave rooms with scribbles all over the walls?" Spencer asked. Wasn't that like leaving a blatant trail behind them saying 'I was here'?

Dean scooped up the gun bag off his bed and brought it over to the table, setting it down with a solid thunk. "You got a better idea, genius boy?"

He had to resist rolling his eyes at the nickname. Ignoring the boys for the moment, Spencer drew in a breath and prepared himself to do exactly what he'd done to his room. He walked over to one of the walls and lifted his hand so that he could rest his palm flat against the wall. Then, with just a bit of focus, he breathed out and let his grace flow out from him. All along the wall sigils shone in a faint light before slowly fading away. He smiled when he stepped back to look at them. Though they were invisible to others now, he could see them faintly if he looked for them. "There." Turning back, he smiled at the boys, both of whom were watching him with surprise and curiosity. "I can erase them before we leave so no one will ever know we were here. For now, we're safe from everything I could think of."

That got both their approval. Spencer flushed under their smiles and quickly turned away.

There wasn't really anything that Spencer could do in here with them at the moment and he knew it. He could stand there awkwardly while Sam researched, maybe bother Dean a little bit, but he'd already been cooped up for a while with them and it was stretching his comfort just a bit. So, without really giving them much time to protest or comment, he excused himself with the warning of "Come get me when you have anything." And then he was gone, heading out the door and towards his own room.

There, at least, he could have something to do. From his bag he pulled out books on Famine, the Horsemen that he was studying. Bobby was taking care of research on Pestilence. The two had come to the agreement that they'd split things up that way to make it easier.

Spencer stood in his room and looked at the things he'd brought with him. For a moment he just chewed on the inside of his lip. So far he'd tried tracking Famine and learning about him the way that a Hunter would. Maybe it was time to try and work this the way that a Profiler would.

Rolling up his sleeves, Spencer got to work.

* * *

He was still at it hours later when Dean came knocking at his door. Spencer had been so caught up in what he was doing he'd forgotten entirely about almost everything else – the brothers included. So when the loud knocking finally broke through his thoughts he was a bit surprised to see that at least two hours has passed by since he'd started. He pushed back a bit of hair and quickly hurried over to open up the door to reveal a slightly annoyed looking Dean on the other side. "Took you long enough, Doc."

"Sorry." Spencer apologized automatically. "I was working." Tilting his head a little, he looked beyond Dean, expecting to see Sam but finding no one there. His gaze dropped back to the hunter. "Is everything all right?"

"It's fine. Sammy went out to get some food." Without waiting for any sort of invitation, he shouldered his way past Spencer and moved into the room like he owned the place. "We figured out who we're going after. Soon as it's dark, we'll go salt'n'burn her." Stopping in the middle of the room, Dean let out a low whistle. "Looks like you've been, ah, _busy._ " Hands in his pockets, he looked around the room, and Spencer flushed just a little. The whole place probably looked just a little chaotic.

Shutting the door, Spencer hurried to clear some space at the room's little excuse for a table. He scooped up the papers there and, after a quick debate, dumped them down on the pillow on his bed. "I've been working as well. Getting out of the same space and into a motel seems to have triggered the profiler in me and so I thought I'd try to put that to use in tracking down Famine."

"Have you found anything?"

"Maybe." Turning back towards the map he had tacked up on the wall, Spencer contemplated the pins he'd placed there. He didn't pay much attention to Dean coming over and standing beside him. His focus was on the map. "I need Gabriel to confirm for me that some of these deaths were, in fact, Famine. On some of them I can't quite be sure. But if they are, there might be a pattern. One that I could use to predict where he's going next."

That definitely had Dean standing up a bit more at attention. Spencer could actually feel it as his emotions and thoughts all sharpened and focused right on Spencer and his map. "You can really predict where he'll go?"

"Theoretically. While Horsemen aren't human – and profiling is used to predict human behavior – they do seem to share some similarities, and he does have some goal in mind. This is far too organized to be just simple pleasure of killing." That was what had struck him the most about it all. This wasn't random, wasn't just deaths of opportunity. There seemed to be something controlled about the whole thing. "Assuming that Lucifer is directing the Horsemen, I think it's safe to say that there's some goal in mind for each of them. Some plan that will, in turn, help further Lucifer's main plan. Lucifer's brilliant, Gabriel said. One of their best tacticians. And he's had plenty of time to plan. If we could figure out his smaller plans it'd be much easier to track the Horsemen down, of course, but we can work with what we have and what we know of them and their powers. It's not hard to think of a list of things that they might do."

"Well, Lucifer wants to destroy the planet, so they're all probably working towards the same thing." Dean said.

Spencer shook his head. No, that didn't feel right. He'd thought that already and had dismissed it hours ago. "His motives aren't that simple. _He's_ not that simple."

"What're you talking about?"

"Think of it like this." Turning, Spencer focused on his friend, trying to figure out how to put into words the things that he'd been thinking of these past few hours. "We all know the story of the Morningstar, correct?"

"Yeah. God wanted him to bow to humans and Lucifer refused, right?"

"According to what I've pieced together from Gabriel, the books, and a bit of lore, the best that Bobby and I understand it is that Lucifer was God's favorite, but when God asked for all angels to bow down to humanity, Lucifer refused, claiming that he could love none more than his Father. He grew jealous of beings that he began to see as nothing more than broken and flawed. His view of us was tainted straight from the start. It led him to wage a war that he eventually lost, ending with him being cast out and locked into the cage by Michael."

Dean nodded at him. "Yeah, Doc, we know all this."

Holding his hands up, Spencer gestured for patience. "Bear with me here. Just, try and see that from his point of view for a moment, Dean. Imagine what you would've felt like if your Dad had grabbed up something that you saw as nothing more than tiny little bugs and he held them out to you and told you that you had to love them, these little bugs you didn't even notice, more than you loved him, more than you loved Sammy, more than you loved anything." He saw Dean start to protest and hurried on. "I know, I know, but just think about it. Think how you'd feel. Then try and picture what it would be like for you to argue with him over it and for him to get so pissed off at you that he not only throws you out, he has your brother, the one being you're closest with, lock you in a cage. A cage that is in the very depths of hell."

He saw Dean shiver and knew that the man was remembering his own time in hell. Spencer hated to do anything to trigger those memories but he was trying to make a point here. When he continued, his voice was just a bit gentler.

"Now imagine spending eons in there. Time beyond our imagining. Because we both know that time runs faster in hell. The deeper you go, the faster time runs. So what was eons for us – imagine how long that was for him. And he's been down there this entire time, alone. If he heard anything at all, it would've been the sounds of hell, or the whisper of demons. _Humans_ turn in less time than that. What do you think happened to the brightest of all God's angels?"

"He's insane." Dean said. Only, it was without the bite that it might've carried earlier. It wasn't angry, wasn't snarky. It was the closest that Spencer imagined the man had ever come to feeling sorry for the devil.

"Most assuredly." Spencer said softly. "He's had time in there to stew and twist and _break_ in ways that none of us can even begin to comprehend. That's why I say that destroying the planet is far too simple a goal for him. He's hurt and he's broken and he's mostly insane, but he's also beyond brilliant. He's had plenty of time to build his plans. Figuring them out won't be easy. Stopping them won't be either."

"So how the hell do we have any hope?"

That one sentence was so forlorn, so devoid of any actual hope at all, that Spencer's grace throbbed with the need to comfort. He almost reached out only to draw his hand back and curl his fingers in. His touch probably wouldn't be welcome and he'd never been all that great at offering comfort as it was. "There's always hope." He said instead. "Always. Sometimes you just have to look a little harder for it."

The room felt quiet for a moment and Spencer could tell that Dean was trying to process everything he'd just heard. He hated that he'd made the hunter so worried and hoped with everything he had that he hadn't messed up here and taken away Dean's sense of hope. He hadn't meant to make Dean more upset or knock him down. He'd just been sharing facts. Sometimes he just…forgot that those facts could hurt people.

Eventually, though, Dean shook his head and his expression was a mask that Spencer didn't bother trying to read through. "I thought we were discussing Horsemen, not Lucifer's mental state." Dean said, sounding almost like his old self.

Spencer watched him for a second. Then he made a mental note to keep an eye on him; maybe even ask Gabriel or Castiel to do the same. Keeping his own thoughts hidden, he nodded a little to let Dean know he recognized the diversion for what it was and would respect it. "Well his mental state reflects directly on the plans he's building, which in turn reflects on what the Horsemen are going to be doing. They're all pawns in the chess game that he's playing. Understanding the player is key to understanding their moves." Spencer turned back towards the map and chewed on his lip once more as he let his mind wander. When he spoke again, his voice was a bit hazy and distracted sounding. "I just need to figure out what kind of purpose it would serve to make people hungry. Famine would enjoy it. But what would Lucifer want with it? Is there a purpose? Or is it just…is he a distraction?"

"Something to keep us running around like idiots, maybe." Dean said. He was facing the map now as well and running his eyes over it. While many people considered Sam the smart one of the duo, it by no means meant that Dean wasn't smart. He had a bright mind and a sense for a puzzle and a hunt like few Spencer had seen. It was something he'd noticed in the Winchester Gospels and something that he was starting to see with the more time that he spent with them. Sam was brilliant in a very scholarly way that appealed to Spencer in a friend. Dean was brilliant in a way kind of like Derek. He was tough, could kick ass when needed – and much preferred to – but he also had a brilliant mind that people tended to not notice beyond the charming smile and the punch-first attitude.

Keeping that in mind, as well as the fact that Dean more than anyone else seemed to doubt his own intelligence, Spencer kept his voice casual and distracted while paying close attention as he asked "Is that what you would do?"

"Probably." Dean murmured. "I mean, it'd keep us out of his hair, wouldn't it? Keep us running around. Besides, making someone hungry? Not exactly a scary power."

"Famine doesn't make you hungry for just food. Gabriel says it takes whatever you want most, whatever your addiction is, and makes you crave it more than anything."

The room went quiet as the two men thought about it. It was Dean who figured things out first. Spencer actually felt it as the realization hit the man, the stunned shock that slapped into him followed almost immediately by horror. He looked over to find Dean staring, wide eyed, at the map. "Sammy." The man breathed out.

"What?" What was he talking about? Spencer's whole body tensed, even his grace, as he turned to fully face the hunter.

Dean looked like he was going to be sick. "He's using him as a way to get to Sammy."

That was all it took for it to start to click in Spencer's brain, too. When it did he realized how stupid he'd been not to think of it before. "The demon blood."

"Jesus." Dean pushed a hand through his hair and turned to look at Spencer. "He gets Sammy back on that, screws with his head…"

"…they'd have a much better chance of controlling him." Spencer finished. He knew his eyes were wide as the implications set in. This was bad. This was so, so bad. "All they'd have to do is get him as high as could be and then take it away. In withdrawals, nothing ever makes sense. All you want is _more_. You'd do almost anything to get it."

Temper had Dean spinning and marching away from Spencer, like distance from him could get him distance from his words. "Sammy wouldn't say Yes. Even half outta his head, he wouldn't say Yes." He spat out. Still, Spencer heard the doubt under there, the fear that maybe he was _wrong_.

From what Spencer knew of Sam – and that wasn't much, he had to remind himself, he'd barely known these boys for long – he didn't think that Dean was right. "I think he's still say No, Dean. But…that's if he even knew what he was saying Yes or No to." He hated to keep being the bearer of bad news but this was important. Memories of his own withdrawal washed over him and he fought back a wave of nausea. "When you're deep in withdrawal not everything makes sense. They could confuse him, mess with his head, and in the end he could tell Lucifer Yes without ever even knowing it. He could make Sam think he was _you_ and use that to trick him. In that state of mind, Sam might not be able to see through the lies."

The two were still standing there, staring at one another with a sense of horror, when there was a knock on the motel room door. Spencer was the one to move. Numb, he went over and opened the door up, revealing not only Sam but Gabriel as well. The two took one look at Spencer and then in to Dean and the smiles they wore wiped free. "What is it?" Gabriel demanded, pushing in and going right to Spencer. "What's wrong?"

"Dean?" Sam called out, coming in just a bit slower, his expression much more cautious. Bags of food were clenched in his hands and he had to use his foot to shut the door behind him. But his eyes stayed locked right on his big brother. He didn't ask anything else; just Dean's name had been enough to convey plenty of questions.

Dean flinched visibly at the sound of his name. His gaze shot to Spencer and the glare he wore was enough to have Spencer's mouth clicking shut. "It's nothing." Dean said gruffly.

"Nothing?" Sam repeated the word, his disbelief evident in his voice.

"Nothing." Dean snapped back. His voice made it clear he wasn't going to argue this. "Just a private conversation, if that's all right with you." Then he turned on his heel and marched right into the bathroom in a move they all recognized for the retreat it was.

No sooner had the door slammed shut than two sets of eyes moved right to Spencer and locked on him. He drew in a deep breath and then made a split second decision. "If he wants to talk about it, he'll tell you." That said, he turned away from them and went to his map, hoping that he was doing the right thing. This wasn't something to keep from someone. They should be telling Sam, helping to keep him safe so that he never had to go around Famine. They shouldn't be keeping this from him. But Sam was Dean's brother and, for now, he'd let Dean handle it.

For now.


	21. Between Hope and Destruction Part 8

_I know this chapter, and the last one or so, may feel a bit like filler, but I need to get some things out while still moving things along, so bear with me folks. We're over halfway through the story now :)_

* * *

Sam had to admit it felt good to get out of the motel room and stretch his legs out. Hours in the car and then a few more hours in the motel room digging up information on their ghost had left him a bit stiff and a bit, well, bored. However, now that they had all the information that they needed, all they had to do was wait for nightfall so they could go and take care of things. That was why he was out now fetching them something to eat. It gave him the opportunity to stretch while also getting them food before their night plans caught up with them.

He'd expected to walk to the diner, get some food, and enjoy a nice walk back. What he hadn't expected was to find an archangel sitting in a booth in the diner sipping on a chocolate milkshake.

The first thing that Sam noticed on Gabriel's face was that he looked – tired. It was barely there, just a hint around the eyes as Sam got close to him, but it was there, just enough for Sam to catch a glimpse of it. Then Gabriel was smiling at him and Sam was caught off guard by just how open and honest that smile was. It was like Gabriel was actually happy to see him. Sam deliberately ignored the little warm feeling in his stomach that that thought gave him.

He made his way through the diner and over to Gabriel's table. There was no doubt that the archangel wasn't here just by chance. If he was here, there was a purpose, and avoiding him would do no good. _Beside_ s, a small part of Sam whispered, _did you really want to avoid him anyways_?

"Hey, Samoose." Gabriel greeted him brightly as Sam slipped down into the booth with him. "Fancy seeing you here."

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes, though a corner of his mouth tried to twitch up. "Yes, fancy that. Amazing coincidence." He said dryly.

Mischievousness twinkled in amber eyes as Gabriel took another drink off his milkshake. It was a bit distracting and Sam found himself trying not to shift in his seat as he watched Gabriel wrap his lips around the straw in a way that was a bit too obscene to be accidental. He knew the affect he was having, too, the little shit. When he pulled off the straw, he arched one eyebrow and didn't even bother pretending innocence. "Problems, Sammy boy?"

"It's Sam." Not the most eloquent of responses but it was the best he could manage at the moment. This really wasn't a road he should be even thinking about going down here. Any attraction he'd ever felt for this short, snarky little bundle of sass, well, it would only get him in trouble now. This was the apocalypse! It wasn't time to think about things like that. Especially not with someone who had tortured him plenty of times in his past, no matter that it'd been for a good cause. Besides, there was no point in someone like him attempting to ever even pretend to flirt a little with someone like _Gabriel_.

The flirty look faded off Gabriel's face and his expression shifted into a scowl. "You're way too self-deprecating for your own good, has anyone ever told you that?" Without giving Sam time to answer, he pushed his milkshake to the side and folded his arms on the table, leaning forward on them in a way that put him in Sam's space a lot more than his small frame would suggest he was capable of. "I won't sit here and tell you that you didn't make mistakes, Sammy— _Sam_. You did. Not just little ones, either. You screwed up in epic proportions. I mean, _Ruby._ " He put a wealth of scorn into just that single name.

Sam winced. "Gee, thanks..."

"Not done yet." Gabriel interrupted him firmly. His eyes were locked on Sam and something in them seemed to spark a little, a hint of power behind them that wasn't quite angelic, but wasn't fully pagan, either. It was enough to have Sam's jaw snapping shut. "You screwed up, kiddo – but you're fixing it. We're all fixing it. And you're not the only one that made mistakes here. In some ways, you get a little more leeway on your mistakes than the rest of us, because you've been manipulated from the start. Ever since Azazel fed you that little bit of go-juice, your life's been mapped out and you've had Heaven and Hell both in their own way trying to help shove you forward. They've turned you and your brother into pawns in their giant chess game." He paused, tilting his head in that odd angelic move that showed thought. "Not pawns." He corrected. "More like the Queens. Most important pieces on the board. The fact that you've resisted as much as you have is testament to just how strong a person you really are."

"I'm really not." Sam said softly. He knew he wasn't strong. How could Gabriel say that, knowing the things he'd done? How could he think anything about Sam was strong? He'd screwed up so many times. This whole thing, all of it, wouldn't be happening if he hadn't messed up. This was on his head. His shoulders. And it was one hell of a heavy burden. But it was a burden that he had to bear.

He heard a soft sigh from the being across the table. Then, to his complete surprise, Gabriel slid a hand across the table and caught hold of one of Sam's before he could even think to move. "Not alone." He told him gently. "You don't have to do this alone. That was part of your problem before, kiddo. Trusting the wrong people, trying to take everything on yourself and take care of it all. Let people in this time. Let us help. You don't have to carry all of this alone."

Sam wanted so badly to take what was being offered here. He wanted to curl his hand around Gabriel's and take the help that the archangel was extending to him. Because, oh, it sounded perfect. But he just, he didn't know. He didn't know if he could and he didn't know how. How do you share something like that?

"Easy." Gabriel said, and Sam finally became aware of the fact that Gabriel wasn't just responding to his words or his expressions, but to his thoughts, and he had only a second to feel truly horrified by the idea that Gabriel was _reading his mind_ before he continued to speak. "You stop holding it all inside. I get that you gotta do it in front of your brother. Trust me, I get it. You worry about what Deano's gonna say or do an how little he trusts you and just, yeah. I _get it_. But you don't have to pull that shit in front of me. I may tease you, I'll definitely tell you loud and clear if I think you're being an idiot, but I'll listen." His mouth curved up into a grin. "If your thoughts haven't scared me off so far, trust me, it aint gonna happen."

"You've been reading my mind." Sam said slowly, almost numbly.

"Kind of hard not to, kiddo." Gabriel gave his hand one last squeeze and then drew his touch back and sat back in his seat once more. "Humans, you think so damn loud all the time, and you've still got enough mojo in you that it makes your thoughts a little bit louder than normal. You should probably work on that, actually. Unless you want everyone you come across able to see in that noggin of yours."

The thought of that left Sam feeling a little sick and a whole lot exposed. How much had been heard already? How many things did the angels know just because they'd been able to pluck it out of his or Dean's head?

Gabriel snorted and jerked Sam out of his dark spiral of thoughts. "Oh, quit angsting." He told the hunter, pulling his milkshake back over in front of him and taking another drink. With one hand he gestured up towards Sam's head. "You've got this big cloud of emo angst hanging over your head and it's ruining my chocolate buzz. I came down here to escape from Mikey and politics for a bit, not to watch you hate on yourself. If you're so worried about your thoughts, I'll show you how to shield them on your own. For now…" Before Sam could do anything, Gabriel reached out and flicked a finger dead center on Sam's forehead. "There. Shielded, courtesy of yours truly, against everything except me." He winked. "I'm not about to take away my own fun."

For a moment Sam just sat and stared at him. He could say a few different things here. He could growl at Gabriel for messing with his head without asking, or for shielding him from everyone _but_ Gabriel. He could demand to know what on earth prompted all of this from a being who only seemed to have joined their side because the fledgling he was looking after had wanted to. He could question just how much of this was honest conversation between them and how much was done simply to keep him on the straight and narrow so their side had a better chance of winning. But, looking at him, Sam found that he didn't want to. He didn't want to question all of it. He didn't want to worry constantly that he was making yet another friend who was going to screw him over in the end. More than that, he didn't want to have yet another person that he had to put on some act in front of. So he ignored all the worries and warnings in his head and just let himself relax in what felt like the first time in a long time. "Thank you."

The grin he got in return was blinding. "Anytime."

As if she'd just been waiting this whole time until it was safe to come up – which, considering who he was sitting with, was a distinct possibility, Sam wouldn't put it past Gabriel to use his powers to keep people away while they talked – a waitress came over to their table then carrying two paper bags that she set down. "Here you go, boys." She said with a bright smile. "You have a good day, now!"

Sam looked at the bags and then up at Gabriel, who was grinning at him. The archangel didn't say anything, didn't comment on the fact that he'd apparently ordered the food that Sam was going to get – a quick look in the back showed exactly what he would've ordered for himself and for Dean – just wiggled his eyebrows and pushed up from the table. "C'mon, Samosa. I'm sure our boys are hungry."

What else could he do? Shaking his head, Sam pushed up from the booth as well and grabbed the bags. Then he followed Gabriel out of the diner.

Their walk back to the motel was filled with conversation and laugher. More laughter than Sam remembered having for quite a while. It was as if Gabriel had decided that they were free to be friends now and he threw himself into it wholeheartedly. He entertained Sam the whole way back with a story about a prank war between him and his son, Fenrir, that had Sam almost wheezing from laughing so hard. It was the most animated and open that Sam could ever remember seeing Gabriel be. He was grinning and he seemed to honestly enjoy getting Sam to laugh, like it was all he wanted to do. The feeling that gave the hunter was, nice.

But when they got back to the motel, Sam watched as a change came over the trickster. Nothing huge – not even all that noticeable. If he hadn't been looking he might not have seen it. Gabriel straightened himself up a little, squaring his shoulders ever so slightly, and the hint of openness in his gaze faded away to something else. It wasn't any less warm or happy, but it was sheltered. Sam recognized it because it was the same thing he'd seen his brother do plenty of times before when he hadn't known that Sam was looking. Gabriel was putting his usual masks back into place. The ones that he could hide behind if needed, to keep everyone else from seeing any weakness, any signs of worry or tiredness.

In a way, it kind of made Sam feel good. It felt good to know that Gabriel felt comfortable letting his guard down around Sam. He didn't feel the need to pretend to be strong for him like he was doing now for the others. The only person he could think of so far that he'd seen Gabriel relax around was Spencer, and even then that was different. Around Spencer he was soft and warm in a way, but he also held himself back some. Kind of like…kind of like a father protecting their child. Or how Dean tried to protect Sam.

All of that control and ease in both of them changed when they finally reached the motel room and the door opened. All of it changed and faded away when they caught sight of the look on Spencer's face. It looked like someone had slapped him. Dean stood just beyond him in the room and the look on his face wasn't any better. What the hell had happened here? What was going on?

Sam didn't have to ask – Gabriel did that for him. "What is it?" he demanded, shouldering his way past Sam and going directly to Spencer. "What's wrong?"

While Gabriel focused on Spencer, Sam focused on Dean. "Dean?" He knew his brother would understand everything he was asking with that single use of his name. They'd built up years of experience at reading one another. They knew almost all the ways that the other could say their name and all the various meanings that could sit behind it. Just like they knew one another's reactions. That was why Sam knew that whatever this was, it was bad, because Dean actually flinched at the sound of his name. Then, to make matters worse, his eyes darted over to Spencer and he gave him a glare that Sam knew far too well. A glare that clearly said _Shut up and don't say a word._ It was a glare Dean had given Sam many times when they were kids and he'd taken the punishment for something with John or with the schools or anyone so that Sam wouldn't have to. The glare that told him to keep his mouth shut and let Dean handle it. But why was he giving _Spencer_ that glare?

"It's nothing." Dean said, refusing to look directly at Sam. There was something about him, this sort of energy that made it clear just how little he wanted to be in here right now.

"Nothing?" Sam repeated slowly. Did he really think that Sam was going to buy that?

His brother glared and snapped right back at him. "Nothing. Just a private conversation, if that's all right with you." Then, in true Dean fashion, he retreated to the closest exit – the bathroom.

What the hell was going on here? Sam turned towards Spencer even as the bathroom door slammed shut. What he saw there didn't really ease his worries any. Spencer's face was a calm and composed mask that gave away almost nothing. When Sam had first met him, he'd noted Spencer's uncanny ability to lie to their face. He was far too practiced at putting on a mask and at using things around him to hide it when he couldn't. His face was composed now and a bit of hair helped to hide the eyes that Sam knew would've given away something .Spencer always seemed to give things away in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was as calm as if they were discussing the weather, not something that had had both Spencer and Dean looking stunned and horrified only moments ago. "If he wants to talk about it, he'll tell you."

"We're supposed to be a team." Sam said slowly, watching Spencer's face the whole time. "That means we share information. We don't keep secrets. If there's something going on, I need to know about it. I deserve to know about it."

If he hadn't been staring so closely he wouldn't have seen the miniscule flinch his words caused. However, even if he hadn't seen that, he still would've seen the way that Gabriel straightened up and how he leaned forward like he wanted to go over to Spencer. Watching Gabriel seemed to be a good way to gauge Spencer's mood sometimes. Better than watching the kid, that was for sure. Spencer may keep things under a mask but Gabriel didn't seem to see a need to hide his own worry for Spencer. Judging by the way he was looking at the fledgling right then, the emotions Spencer was feeling couldn't be very positive.

Sam was surprised when Spencer turned to look at him without hiding behind anything. Big brown eyes met his and they carried an apology in them. "I'm not trying to be deceptive or facetious, Sam. But this is a conversation you need to have with your brother. _Please_."

What other answer could Sam give here? In the face of Spencer's earnest request he couldn't bring himself to push. How on earth did the kid manage to do that? One look with that face and Sam was beginning to understand what people meant when they grumbled at him about his 'puppy dog look'. "Okay."

The relief on Spencer's face was obvious. "Thank you."

Spencer turned back to the map and behind his back Gabriel and Sam exchanged a look. Whatever was going on here it was something Sam planned on getting to the bottom of, but not right now. It'd have to wait for later. He'd talk with Dean, just like Spencer suggested - the look that Gabriel had said he'd talk to Spencer later as well.

They let Spencer have a moment of quiet while Sam divvied up the food. Then Gabriel gave a low whistle to catch the fledgling's attention. As soon as Spencer spun around, the trickster pointed towards the table. "Take a break and eat, baby bird. You look like you've been going at it for hours. When you're done you can walk us through whatever you've found. But eat first."

It was kind of funny to watch the way that Spencer opened his mouth as if he was going to protest only to snap it shut at a raised eyebrow and a look from Gabriel. The kid - and in that moment, wow, did he ever look like a kid - shot a mulish look down towards the floor that lasted only a second before it was smothered under the usual mask he wore. Spencer straightened his shoulders and walked over to join Sam, who was now sitting at the table. Gabriel gave a pleased little smile and then moved over to drop himself down on the couch. He snapped up a candy bar and started to unwrap it while the boys began to open their food. Sam opened up the salad container, pleased and a bit surprised to see the quality of his food. This couldn't be diner fare.

"It is." Gabriel said, grinning over at him. "Just with a few…extras. My own special touch."

Sam eyed his food and then eyed the trickster. "Yeah, because that's not at all disturbing."

Briefly looking up from his own taco salad, Spencer eyed Sam's bowl and then looked back down at his own food. "It's fine. There's nothing abnormal or out of place in your salad. Though I'm sure if you doubt him enough he may feel the need to add something simply out of spite."

"Traitor!" Gabriel called out.

The angle Spencer sat at prevented Gabriel from seeing the smirk that flash there and gone again on Spencer's face. Sam saw it, though, and smothered a laugh. Either this was a side of Spencer that they hadn't seen so far, a very distinct possibility, or he was spending a bit too much time with a known trickster. He seemed to be showing more and more of a playful side as time went on.

As they started to eat, it clicked for Sam that his brother hadn't come out of the bathroom yet. He cast a curious and just slightly worried look over in the bathroom's direction. Then he sighed. Not a whole lot he could do there, really. Nothing short of going over and banging on the door and that was pretty much an express ticket to dealing with one pissed off brother. He was just going to have to wait him out for now. Resigned to that, Sam turned his attention back to the table. As he forked up his first bite and put it in his mouth he happened to be glancing up just enough to catch it as Spencer grimaced and shifted his shoulders in a way Sam had noticed him doing a few times.

It was a move that Sam had seen plenty of times on Dean. Hell, he'd done it himself often enough after one of the million times that he'd been thrown up against a wall or had his back slammed into something. Spencer seemed to move like that a lot, though, despite the fact that Sam hadn't seen or heard of anything happening to him that might cause that.

He wasn't the only one to see it. Even though Sam could've swore the archangel wasn't paying any of them the least bit of attention, too lost in his candy bar and his own thoughts, he was suddenly pushing his way up off the motel couch and strolling over towards Spencer. "Back bugging you again, kiddo?"

Spencer's eyes flashed up towards the archangel with just a bit of surprise. Then Sam watched as whatever he felt was concealed behind long lashes. It hid those expressive eyes of his without being too obvious about it, fitting in perfectly with the shy look that Spencer usually had. "I'm okay."

"Mm hm." Gabriel rolled his eyes and moved to stand right behind Spencer. From this angle Sam couldn't quite see what it was that Gabriel did, only that his hands were on Spencer's back, but whatever it was effectively cut off what Spencer had been about to say and practically had his eyes rolling up in his head. Behind him, Gabriel looked smug. "That's what I thought." Lightly, he thumped the back of Spencer's head. "What did I tell you before?"

"To let you know when it gets bad." Spencer recited dutifully. A hint of color filled his cheeks and Sam caught just a small glimpse of nervous eyes as they looked up at him and then quickly away. "It didn't seem that bad, though. I just, I don't really notice it. It always aches anymore."

"Yeah, I'm thinking it's about time to let these bad boys out."

That, of course, had to be right about the time that Dean came walking out of the bathroom. Because he always seemed to have the absolute worst timing _ever_. Sam had feeling it was just something that big brothers had built into them. This strange ability to come into a room at the most inopportune time. Dean had done it plenty of time over the years, resulting in quite a bit of embarrassment for Sam and amusement for Dean. Now, it provided him with a view that he clearly didn't want to see, if the little twist to his mouth was any indicator. "You two mind saving that for later?" He asked as he came over to take the only other open seat on the end of the bed nearest them. "I don't need to watch a couple angels bad touching each other."

"Jealous?" Gabriel shot back. His hands moved up off Spencer's back to his shoulders to start rubbing there and Sam had a feeling it wasn't just because they were sore. The way Spencer had flinched at Dean's words and hunched forward made it clear he was embarrassed and trying to move away. Gabriel just wasn't allowing it. He kept rubbing at Spencer's shoulders while he gave Dean his best smirk.

Dean didn't get a chance to make any remark. Spencer abruptly pulled himself away from Gabriel's hands and hunched forward over his food, his hair coming down to perfectly shelter his face. At the same time, he spoke in a voice so dry in made more than just Sam wince. "If you two insist on bickering, kindly find someone else to place in the middle, please."

His low words were enough to cut off any argument that might've progressed between Gabriel and Dean. The way they were with one another left Sam to think that they wouldn't ever truly get along without bickering of some kind. It just seemed to be how they spoke to one another. Sarcastic remarks, rude tones, the potential for a fight brewing just underneath it all. But neither one of them was willing to put Spencer in the middle of it. Especially not after he made it clear with every tense inch of his body just how uncomfortable it made him. Sam just hoped that didn't mean that they'd try to use him next. He wouldn't be as polite about it as Spencer had just been.

Wincing a little, Gabriel reached out and smoothed the flat of his hand over Spencer's back. "Sorry, little bird."

"It's fine." Spencer shrugged one shoulder like it was nothing, brushing off whatever he'd been feeling and pushing it away. When he looked up at Gabriel there were no signs of discomfort on his face anymore. He had a small smile and a curious look for the archangel. "I almost didn't think to ask. How did things go with Michael? I thought you two were off to do your ritual."

That transformed Gabriel's expression to one of immense glee and smug satisfaction. "Done, done, and done. Did you doubt me?" He brought a hand up and laid it over his heart while faking a shocked look. "Sparrow, I'm hurt!"

Spencer snorted and rolled his eyes. "Pardon me for wondering if perchance raising Death and speaking with him might not exactly be _easy_."

"You're forgiven." Gabriel said, as if Spencer's remark had been entirely serious. Then he reached out and tapped his nose. "Just don't let it happen again. You can't doubt my awesomeness, kiddo. It's too great."

That drew a laugh from Sam, an eye roll from Spencer, and a loud "Oh, please!" from Dean.

Just like that, the little bit of tension in the group was broken. That was quite a skill Gabriel had. Something told Sam a lot of his behavior there had been solely for the purpose of relaxing everyone. He seemed to be pretty good at doing that.

So now they had Death's ring to go with War's. All they needed now was to track down Famine and Pestilence. With that hope in mind, Sam looked up to the map on the wall.

He wasn't the only one. Spencer was looking up at it again and there was a little furrow between his brows that said that he was thinking once more. He was only absently paying attention to the food that he kept forking up into his mouth. It was like he was eating on autopilot. "I think I might have a way to track down Famine." He said between bites. "I just... would you mind checking a few of these things for me, Gabriel? I need to know if some of them could be Famine's work or not. Once I weed out what is and isn't him, I might be able to better track him."

"No problem." Gabriel moved over to the map and glanced at the things that Spencer had pinned up there. "I'll check some of them out while you three go grave-digging tonight. I'll be able to feel if he was at one of these places."

Spencer was suddenly sitting up much straighter in his seat and he looked slightly alarmed. "The three of us? Now, wait a second." His eyes darted back and forth between Sam and Dean. "I thought I was coming along simply for research purposes."

A gleeful grin tugged at Dean's lips. The man never could resist teasing anyone. "What, you got a little problem with digging graves, Doc?"

"After having someone hold a gun on you and force you to dig your own, you tend to shy away from such acts." Spencer snapped out. Judging by the way he blanched afterwards, he hadn't exactly meant to blurt that out. Sam filed away the little bit of information with all the other tidbits he was picking up here and there about their newest companion. He didn't ask any questions, though. Not when he could see how uncomfortable Spencer was.

In true Dean form, the older Winchester shrugged one shoulder and picked up the burger that Sam had brought for him. "Try digging your way out of your own grave. By hand."

Just thinking about that was enough to make Sam feel a little sick. He lowered the bite he'd been just about to take. Spencer, however, only faltered for a short second. Then he shook his head. "No, thank you. I doubt I'd get far. Have you looked at me?" Spencer gestured towards himself. "Do I look like the type to manage that? I'd be more hindrance than help in any sort of grave-digging endeavors."

"Says the dude who _broke my hand_." Dean shot back. "I'd say you're stronger than you think, Doc."

That had Gabriel turning around towards them again. He looked far too pleased, Sam thought, at the idea that Spencer had broken Dean's hand. "You broke his hand?"

Red stained Spencer's cheeks. "Accidentally!" he hurried to explain. "He wanted to see how I fought and when he hit me, it broke his hand. I didn't mean for it to happen!"

Gabriel laughed, warm and bright, and reached out to ruffle Spencer's hair. The grin he shot Dean's way was more a smirk than anything else. It was a pure trickster look. "Haven't you learned not to fight with the angels yet, Deano? I keep telling you guys he's a fledgling. You gotta learn to start thinking of him like that or you'll end up with a lot more than a broken hand." With one last grin and a wink, the archangel focused back on the maps again. "All right, kiddo, before it gets dark and you guys head out, come show me which ones I need to go check out."


	22. Between Hope and Destruction Part 9

By the time the boys got back from their salt-and-burn that night, Spencer was quite sure he never wanted to be a hunter. Angelic strength or not, climbing down into a grave and digging up bodies was not exactly his idea of a good time. He'd done the job, alternated with the boys to dig things up despite Dean's attempts to make him and Sam do all the work, and it hadn't exactly been hard or anything like that. But his already aching back was extremely displeased with all the work he'd done _and_ he was pretty damn filthy from the shovelful of dirt Dean had seen fit to 'accidentally' toss his way.

Though that was kind of worth the grimace and mutters when Dean realized that Spencer was going to have to get into his car like that. He'd heard Dean clearly mutter about coming out to clean it up in the morning.

Just to make his night even better, when he dragged himself back into his motel room, it was to find that he wasn't the only one in there. And it wasn't just Gabriel, either. He could've handled that. No, Michael was standing right by Gabriel's side in front of the map. The two of them turned to look at him as soon as he came in and there was a sparkle of mirth in Gabriel's eyes that pushed Spencer's already strained patience. He lifted a finger and pointed it at the trickster. "Not a word, Gabriel. Not a single _word_."

That just made Gabriel's grin grow wider.

Spencer let out a disgusted sigh and snapped the door shut behind him. Then he ignored the two archangels completely. Let them hang out in his room and stare at the map. Who cared? Right now the only thing that Spencer cared about was the shower. He was tired, his back hurt, and there was dirt in places it shouldn't ever be. He just wanted _clean_.

He waited only until he was inside the bathroom before he started stripping off layers. At the same time, he got the water on and adjusted to the right temperature and then turned the shower on. It wasn't the best – motel showers never were – but when he stepped underneath the spray he couldn't help the happy little sigh that slid out. Oh, much better. Much, much better. He dunked himself a few times and let the water wash over his face. He was dunking himself again when he heard the bathroom door open. The only thing that kept him from scrambling to try and hide, as if there were anywhere in a shower a person could actually hide, was that he knew the grace that was coming in. "Gabriel, what are you doing?"

"Came to check on you and see how you're feeling. You looked a little grumpy."

A peek out the corner of the curtain showed that his guardian had perched himself on the sink. Spencer rolled his eyes and ducked back under the spray while trying very hard not to be embarrassed here. He wasn't the type to be comfortable naked around anyone. Having someone in here while he was _showering_ … "We really need to have a talk about boundaries."

He heard Gabriel's low chuckle and felt the amusement that echoed in his grace. "I'm not Cassie, kiddo, I know what boundaries are. This is just a stupid one. You're behind a curtain, I can't see you, and even if I could it's not like I'm gonna be thinking dirty thoughts anyways. You're practically my kid here. What kind of pervert do you take me for?" He paused and then quickly added "Don't answer that."

The grace inside of Spencer gave a happy little flutter at Gabriel saying he was practically his kid. He chose to ignore it, pushing that feeling down as something to analyze later.

"Besides," Gabriel said, drawing his attention again. "I wanted to talk to you before you came in and passed out, and I wanted to do it somewhere you couldn't run away."

That washed away any happy feeling and had Spencer going immediately tense. It didn't take a genius to figure out what it was that Gabriel wanted to talk about. The fact that he'd chosen to ambush Spencer in here where he 'couldn't run away' made it clear that he wasn't going to be easily deterred either. "And where's Michael?" Spencer asked, stalling for time.

"Off to go try and talk to Raffy again. He's not all that pleased with our whole 'stop the Apocalypse' plan right now." Gabriel answered. "So, no excuse there, kiddo. You gonna tell me what's up or should I try and drag it out of you?"

The idea of keeping this from Gabriel was one that Spencer hadn't been all that fond of to begin with. He understood Dean's reasoning for keeping it from Sam, at least a little, and seeing as how the two were brothers he was willing to let them handle that on their own for now. But…strange as it felt to admit it, Gabriel was Spencer's _family_. Even if he still felt so very strange saying that it didn't make it any less true. He was family and he was someone that, right now, Spencer found himself trusting more than anyone else. It seemed insane to admit just how important the archangel had become to him or how much he really did trust him. But he did. He trusted Gabriel with his life, his health – and his grace. Nothing the archangel had done had betrayed that trust so far. Maybe this would all come back to bite him in the ass later. Maybe Gabriel would teach him, just like most people in his life had, that trusting someone was foolish. Maybe. But here, now, he did trust him, and keeping things from him just wasn't something that he wanted to do.

He didn't want to take the time to put it all in words, though. So, Spencer decided to test a theory.

He reached out with his grace and felt Gabriel respond to it immediately. Spencer wasn't sure he had the words to describe what it felt like to touch graces this way. Small like this, just that little bit reaching out, it was kind of like a handshake, only a thousand times more intimate. Gabriel's grace wrapping around his was like being held by sunlight and joy and something that Spencer's mind wanted to label only the rest of him was too scared to do so.

Once they were connected, Spencer knew that Gabriel could read his thoughts even easier than before – and he wasn't unaware of just how often Gabriel was able to see inside his head, even if he tried not to do it constantly – so he figured it shouldn't be all that hard to deliberately send thoughts his way. As he poured a bit of shampoo into his palm and began to lather up his hair, he focused on the memory of his conversation with Dean and let it flow over the connection between them.

"Ah." Gabriel answered out loud. His grace stroked over Spencer's, like a hand running over his hair or over his back, and then drew away. "I see why Dean wasn't all too keen on sharing that."

"He'll have to talk to Sam at one point. It's a valid worry and one he should be aware of."

"Yeah. Well, where Sammy boy's concerned, Dean doesn't always think the clearest." There was a pause and then Gabriel sighed. "It'll piss him off, but if he doesn't tell Sam before we go up against Famine, I will. The kid's got a right to know. I'm half tempted to just lock him up when we do, so we can go and handle him, but…"

"But Sam's had too many people making his decisions for him." Spencer said lowly. "He's had people directing his life from day one. He deserves having all the information given to him for once and being allowed to make his own decisions based off of that information. And if you ever expect him to care about you the way you do him, you have to be able to do that for him. Respect him enough to give him that choice."

The bathroom went quiet for a moment and Spencer ducked under the water to rinse his hair out. When he finally pulled back out again, he heard a soft sound, not quite a snort, come from Gabriel's direction. "You see a lot more than people realize."

Spencer smiled a little to himself. "I study human behavior, Gabriel. Angel though you may be, there are still similarities. It wasn't hard to pick up certain things when I was reading the gospels. Or when I watch the two of you together."

"Let me pretend for a little while longer that you're sweet and innocent, kiddo. You're ruining my image here."

Chuckling, Spencer shook his head and set about washing all the dirt off his body. He reached up to wash at his face only to freeze as the muscles in his back seized up and gave a very painful protest to his movements. He had to clench his eyes shut and take a few deep breaths before the pain and the cramp slowly faded away. Once it did, he sighed and turned himself so that the water was beating down on his aching muscles.

It was a little too much to hope that Gabriel hadn't noticed that. He heard the archangel shift a little and snap up something or other. Only a few seconds passed before he was speaking again. "I'm thinking it's about time for you and I to head out for a weekend and see about finally getting those puppies free, little bird. I thought you'd have longer but they're pushing too much against you and soon I don't think you're gonna be able to move without hurting. The last thing we want is for them to try bursting out on their own."

Spencer grimaced and rubbed at the dirt on his neck. He'd known this was coming, had resigned himself to it. "Okay."

"I know you just left with the boys, but if we can convince them to wait in the next town they go to, hopefully I'll get you back to them quick enough. I'm not sure how long it'll take. But I don't want to risk waiting any longer. I'm worried enough about this as it is. Spencer…"

He trailed off and Spencer furrowed his brows, worried. This abruptly seemed like a much more important conversation than it had been moments before. With his body now clean, he shut off the water, wanting to be able to look at his guardian for this. His worry and curiosity was enough to burn away some of his nerves and self-consciousness at being in the bathroom with another person. He grabbed the towel off the rack right outside the shower and pulled it in, wrapping it firmly around himself and drying most of his body off before simply snapping and making boxers, sweat pants and a loose t-shirt from his go-bag appear on his body. Clothed, he stepped out, eyes immediately going to the being perched on the sink.

Gabriel looked at him and there was a hint of caution on his face. "C'mere, kiddo."

Worried and a bit nervous, Spencer came forward and stepped right up when Gabriel parted his knees, making room for him. The sink gave Gabriel just enough height that when he straightened up, he was taller than Spencer. He snapped his fingers and a comb appeared in his hand. One twirl of his finger let Spencer know that he wanted him to turn around.

Only when Spencer had his back to Gabriel and the comb was going through his hair did Gabriel finally speak again. "I know how uncomfortable other angels make you, but this thing with your wings … we can't have you angel out of your vessel here without risking the whole of the Host finding out about you, Lucifer included, and right now I don't think that's something any of us want."

"I'm too different." Spencer said lowly, the words bringing up an all too familiar pang inside. "They won't understand."

One of Gabriel's arms slipped around him and banded across his chest, his hand grabbing Spencer's shoulder. He gave the fledgling a small squeeze, his cheek pressing against Spencer's hair. "You're amazing." One last squeeze and then he drew back and started to comb Spencer's hair once more. "The point is, getting your wings out, it's gonna be something new here. Something I've never done before. And I don't want to put you at risk, baby bird. I want to do this as safe as possible." He paused and Spencer swore he could feel him tense. "I want Raphael to be there."

Now it was Spencer's turn to tense. His whole body went completely still and his eyes widened. Wait, what? He wanted Raphael to be there? _Raphael_? The same angel that, according to Gabriel, wasn't all that happy with their apocalypse ending plans?

"Raf has a problem with us stopping the apocalypse, not with you, sparrow." Gabriel said, either reading Spencer's thoughts or just understanding his silence. "You're a fledgling. To him, you're family, and that's all that's gonna matter. He'll take care of you the same as he would any of us. I trust him in that. His problems with the apocalypse, those… those are his own Daddy issues coming to life. He wouldn't let it hurt you, though." The comb was set down and this time both of Gabriel's arms came around Spencer's shoulders to hug him. Gabriel rested his cheek on his arm, his chin lightly brushing against the side of Spencer's head. "I want you safe, Spencer, and this is the best way I know to get that. Raphael's our healer. There's no one who knows healing better than him."

"You'll be there?" Spencer asked. He hated how small his voice sounded, hated the way it quavered just the slightest bit. Just the idea of another angel touching him, maybe even touching his grace, left him feeling nauseous.

Gabriel gave him a squeeze and his grace sent a wave of affection to him. "Dad Himself couldn't drag me away."

Did he have any other choice here? Spencer closed his eyes and blew out a breath. "Okay."

He was surprised to feel a kiss pressed up against the side of his head. There was a moment of quiet as the two stayed there together, one giving comfort and one taking it. Then Gabriel gave him one last squeeze. "C'mon, little bird. Let's get you to bed. In the morning we'll let the Hardy Boys know what we're up to and then we'll head out. Till then, you need some sleep."

It was on the tip of Spencer's tongue to ask him if he would stay. Sleep hadn't been easy lately, his nightmares coming a bit too frequently. But he had far too much pride and too many years of coping on his own to be able to break down enough to actually ask Gabriel to stay with him. He wasn't a child; he could handle sleeping on his own! Whining over a few bad dreams was something little kids did. Just because he'd broken down once and let Gabriel hold him after a dream didn't mean that he could start asking for him to stick around while he slept. The archangel would have much better things to do with his time.

He wasn't facing Gabriel, so he wasn't able to see the sad look that crossed the archangel's face when he heard Spencer's thoughts.

A snap of the fingers and the two appeared in Spencer's bed – a bed that was suddenly much nicer than it had been before. The sheets were softer and the mattress was as well. Spencer wasn't able to keep in his happy sigh when he snuggled down into them. He'd always had a pleasure for soft things. It felt amazing to sink down into this sinfully comfortable bed. Caught up in it, he didn't notice right away that Gabriel hadn't snapped just him into the bed. It wasn't until he felt the mattress shift a little in front of him that he snapped his eyes open and saw that Gabriel was right there, sitting propped up against the headboard with a mound of pillows behind him and a book in hand.

Gabriel smiled down at him. "You don't mind, do you?" He asked, holding up his book.

Really, it was kind of scary how little he minded. "Don't you have things to do?" He felt compelled to ask. _Better things_ , his brain supplied unhelpfully.

"Nope. My big meeting is done, Mikey's busy talking to Raf without me around – the kid's still a _bit_ peeved at me for running off – and my eye candy's sleeping. Besides," Dropping his hand from his book, Gabriel tucked a bit of Spencer's hair behind his ear and then tapped the tip of his nose. "I like spending time with you."

"Even though I'll be asleep?"

"Just gives me some quiet time to plot." Gabriel said easily. His wings drew out from his back where they'd been hidden and Spencer felt one reach out and curl around him, actually lifting him and drawing him in against Gabriel in a way that had him both embarrassed and amused. Gabriel grinned unrepentantly down at the fledgling who was now curled up by his hip.

Then he surprised Spencer completely. Once he was sure that Spencer was close, cradled in his wing, he lifted the book in his hand and began to read – out loud.

"The palace still shook occasionally as the earth rumbled in memory, groaned as if it would deny what had happened." Gabriel began. His voice was low, a perfect match to the easy, sleepy atmosphere. Without even a snap, the lights were doused. It would seem he didn't even need light to read because he continued to do so in the dark. "Bars of sunlight cast through rents in the walls made motes of dust glitter where they yet hung in the air. Scorch-marks marred the walls, the floors, the ceilings. Broad black smears crossed the blistered paints and gilt of once-bright murals, soot overlaying crumbling friezes of men and animals which seemed to have attempt to walk before the madness grew quiet."

In the dark of the room Gabriel's voice wove him a tale of Lews Therin Telamon and Spencer lay there for a long time simply enjoying the sounds of the story and relaxing into memories of doing this very thing with his mother many times over.

When he finally drifted off to sleep, his dreams were quiet and full of peace.

* * *

Gabriel met up with the hunters the next morning in the same diner where Sam had gotten dinner last night. Spencer wasn't with him. He'd already packed up the kid's room and flown him and his things to the island to get comfortable and wait. Then he'd flown himself here, easily able to feel his baby brother even if the Winchesters were still hidden by those sigils on their ribs. Really, he'd have to do something about that at some point. He couldn't rely on Castiel being around to be able to find them. The seraph was frequently gone on his fruitless endeavor to find Dad. Even with Gabriel on their side, even with Michael _stopping his war plans_ , even after Gabriel had _told_ Castiel that Dad wasn't gone, He just didn't want to be found, still the little seraph was looking for him, sure that he would find him and convince him to help. The kind of faith Castiel held was amazing, insane – and a little humbling.

For now Gabriel chose not to think about it. He hadn't snapped himself into the booth next to Sam to come discuss Dad or Castiel's attempts to find him. He had something much more pressing to deal with right now. And, if he were honest, more important. That might get him in trouble, not just with his brothers and sisters but with Dad as well, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. He dared anyone to be a parent and _not_ put their children first. Any good parent would. And he'd Claimed Spencer in as many ways as he could. The kid was as good as his even if he didn't ever admit to it.

Snapping himself into the diner had the added bonus of making Dean and Sam jump. Castiel looked at him without any real surprise, though his wings showed a pleased greeting in their lift and twist. "Brother."

"Hey, bozos." Gabriel greeted them, easy grin in place. He'd snapped himself up a plate of pancakes when he landed, to better fit in of course, and he cut himself a piece of the syrup drenched mess and wiggled his eyebrows. "What's up! Early morning pow-wow?"

Dean chose to ignore that and instead looked pointedly around. "Where's the Doc? I thought you and him were going to join us?"

When Spencer had still been asleep earlier, Gabriel had reached out to Castiel and told him to go ahead and have everyone head off to breakfast without them, that they'd join them later. Well… "Technically, I said _I'd_ join you guys. I never said anything about Spencer. He's off at my place right now waiting for me to get back. Or wandering the beach." Gabriel shrugged. It could be either one. "He likes doing that."

"Is he all right?" Castiel asked. There was concern in his tone and in the way his wings drew in. The poor seraph hated so much the tension that was between him and Spencer and he wanted nothing more than to fix it, he just didn't seem to know how and so he kept falling back on his search for Dad as a way to avoid the fledgling. Gabriel understood it, but he was going to have to do something to fix it soon. They all needed to figure out a way to get alone.

That was something else that was for a different day. Right now, he cut himself another bite and popped it in his mouth. "He's good. Well, good as can be. I thought we'd have longer but it's looking like his wings need to come out now. So, you guys get to go on without us for a bit and we'll catch up after a few days at Chez Gabriel."

"You're taking him away to do it?" Dean asked, setting his fork down to fix Gabriel with a hard look. "Why can't you do it here?"

It was touching in its own way to see how protective the older Winchester was becoming over Spencer. Really, it was. Except in an instance like this where it got in the way of his logic – something that happened frequently when Dean got overprotective of Sam. Something about that mood just shut off some of his common sense. Gabriel rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Boy, you really are a special one, aren't you?" The mocking curl to Gabriel's lip had the older Winchester scowling even harder. Cutting up another bite, Gabriel resigned himself to explaining a bit more. He'd already figured he was going to have to do so. "Let me give you a little angel lesson, boys. An angel's true form is made up entirely of grace. You guys know that. It's why we have to take vessels when we come here. Upstairs, we're just straight grace shaped into the form we're supposed to be. We just compact that when we pour ourselves inside a vessel."

"Disturbing imagery." Sam said, speaking up for the first time. His words were dry but his expression was the curious one he got when he was presented with potentially new information. The little geek. Gabriel smiled over that.

"Not always pleasant feeling either. Kinda cramped." Just to make Dean squirm, he wiggled his shoulders like someone trying to settle on a cheap suit. The scowl it earned him only made him grin. "Anywho! Spencer's the same as we are, only with the addition of a hint of soul inside. But he could leave his meatsuit just like the rest of us. He'd just be a bit more, physical. A bit less bright, I guess you'd say."

Surprise lit up the older Winchester's face. "That body he's wearing is a _meatsuit_?"

"So to speak. It's all his, though. No previous owners."

Before Dean could say whatever was on his lips, Sam cut in and brought the conversation back under control. "What does this have to do with his wings?"

Answering Sam was much more fun for Gabriel than answering Dean. He tilted himself just enough to be able to look at Sam while still being able to continue eating. Not the best manners, but, hey, what did they expect? "Okay, think of it like this. Imagine the whole inside of that body full of light. Not the guts and the bones and all that. Just, picture it full of light with no room for anything else. Now, the kid's wings have been growing this whole time, the light of his getting bigger and bigger, while the body he's inside of stays the same size."

Castiel winced and his own wings fluttered in what was probably a sympathetic gesture at the idea of being confined that tightly. "That would be extremely…restricting."

"Geeze, no wonder he's always aching." Dean murmured.

Gabriel snapped his finger and pointed at Dean, exclaiming "Exactly!" and it was amusing to watch him jump and look around as if in preparation for whatever Gabriel had snapped into existence. Gabriel let his grin grow just a bit before he continued on. "His body's running out of room. That's not a problem we have with fledglings back home cause they don't have a physical body to push through. Their wings just grow right from the start out in the open. But Spencer here, he's in that body and he can't angel out for these suckers to get free cause doing that would bring down way more angels than any of us wanna deal with. Even with Mikey on our side we're still trying to keep news of the little human fledgling under wraps for now."

He watched as they all went quiet to think about what he said. Gabriel got most of his food done before Sam spoke up again. "So what do we do?"

Sweet boy. He always wanted to find the way to help, first and foremost. Gabriel smiled at him just a bit softer than he had at the others. "Nice offer, kiddo, but _you_ don't do anything. _I_ do. That's why I took him back to the beach house. We're gonna have a weekend of wing birthing and Angel Anatomy 101."

"Can't we help?" Sam asked. Almost immediately after he did, his brother loudly exclaimed "Sam!" and looked at him like he was an idiot. Gabriel kind of understood it; they were in the middle of something big and important right now and they couldn't be taking an entire weekend off to do things. Still, there was a part of him that was annoyed that Dean would protest the idea of helping.

Sam seemed a bit annoyed, too. He gave Dean one of those bitch faces that said 'you're annoying and immature and I'm disappointed in you'. "What, Dean? He's our friend, all right, and you know damn well he'd be right here demanding to help if it were something with us."

Sam missed the way that Gabriel softened at his words; the soft little smile that was fond and so many other things. But Dean didn't. He glared at the Trickster, who only startled for a second when he realized he was caught out, and who quickly covered it up with a grin and a wink. Then he was turning his focus back to Sam. "It's a sweet thought, Samalam, but there's not really anything you can do. It's not gonna be a pleasant experience for the kid and I don't know that he'd really want anyone there." This time there was no covering up Gabriel's grimace. As much of a calm and sassy act as he was putting on for them here, or as confident as he was showing himself to be to Spencer, he was nervous about this. Really, really nervous. "Nephilim don't get wings; it's one of the things that marked them as different. So this is sort of new territory. And best as I can tell, either he's gonna have to force them out and hope for the best, or we're gonna have to cut them out. Either way, it's gonna be bloody and potentially blinding, at least to mortal eyes. I'm not sure how it'll go. Once I'm done with you boys, my next stop is to Raf to see if I can get him to come down and help. I think he's Spencer's best bet."

"Raphael?" Dean spat out at the same time that Castiel tensed. Sam, however, said nothing. But one of his hands dropped down between him and Gabriel and brushed lightly against Gabriel's arm.

Surprised, and then pleased, by the gesture, Gabriel moved his own hand just enough to catch Sam's pinky finger with his own. It wasn't much but the connection felt…nice. Some of Gabriel's tension eased and it was a bit easier to speak. "He's our best choice. No matter what he thinks about anything else, he won't let a fledgling hurt." He had to believe that. He had to believe that his brother wasn't so far gone as to let a child be hurt.

"He is angry." Castiel said, drawing eyes to him. He stared at Gabriel, though, and his wings stretched out a little. "Very much so. The days after you were gone found him often quiet and alone. He was angry and hurt and that has only grown stronger as time passed by."

Gabriel held in the grimace that wanted to slip free and hide it behind the smirk of the trickster. Yeah, like he really needed reminded of _that_. He knew how upset and angry some of their siblings had been after he'd left. He'd already had to explain himself to Michael and he'd dealt with Raphael's temper a little bit, too, as well as Castiel's stunned disbelief and the hurt that kept echoing through his grace. Over and over he'd had to deal with angels who weren't happy with him for walking away – none of them understood why he'd done it. And that was fine. Whatever. Screw them if they couldn't. But this?

Laying his fork down, Gabriel leaned forward and he knew his eyes were sparking with not just grace but power, pagan magic that was as much a part of him anymore as his grace was. If his wings had been out, they would've been displaying in threat and temper. "Let him throw his little bitch fit all he wants. But if he thinks he'll make my fledgling pay for it, he's got another thing coming. This isn't about his issues with me – it's about the kid. And he'll realize that, or I'll _help_ him realize that." In whatever what it took. No one messed with what was his. _No one_.

* * *

A few hours spent wandering the beach had eased Spencer of a little of his stress. None of it took it away completely, though. He felt it simmering under his skin – skin that was beginning to feel just a little too small, too tight. It was a sensation he'd been feeling for a while now but it seemed to be getting worse since Gabriel had drawn his attention to it. Almost like now that he knew he was going to be releasing his wings sometime soon his grace was pushing for it more and more. Like it was eager to get free.

Spencer's thoughts raced with what was coming here. What would his wings look like? Would they start out small and grow bigger? Or would they be large to start off with? Castiel's were big but they were nowhere near as big as Gabriel's. Not to mention that he only had two compared to Gabriel's six. And Gabriel's were huge, but Michael's were even bigger. Was it a rank thing? The higher on the proverbial food chain, the bigger they were and the more of them there were? And what determined the color?

He had so many questions. Gabriel had tried to answer some of them in all their discussions together. He'd explained to Spencer the difference of his wings while in a vessel compared to the wings on his true form. Apparently folding their body into a vessel also worked some sort of 'mojo' to fold their wings somewhat as well. "It's hard to explain, little bird." Gabriel had told him. "They just seem to shrink down when we're in our vessels. If they were their regular size, we'd be way overbalanced."

There seemed to be a lot about angels that Spencer was coming to realize fell under the category of 'hard to explain'. He was also coming to realize that he fell under that category as well.

Spencer was just making his way back inside of the house when he felt Gabriel coming with the presence of not just one other angel, but _two_. The feeling had him freezing in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and one foot still out the door. Not like he could actually run away. There was nowhere to run and nowhere he could hide from them.

Gabriel landed first, with Michael a half second behind him, and then a tall black man landed between them looking stern and serious. He had very short dark hair and a wide mouth that was set in serious lines. Behind him six wings of electric blue were settling calmly against his back. They were so startlingly different from his brothers. To Spencer, Gabriel's wings had always been powerful but they carried a hint of softness to them, of lightness and speed and warmth. Michael's wings, they looked a bit soft, yes, but there was something to them that was power, something that left you in awe. This man – and it had to be Raphael, the six wings gave that away – his wings were _energy_. There was nothing 'good' or 'bad' about energy, it could be harnessed either way. A threat or a promise. Pain or healing.

The feel of that much grace around him caused a little shudder to run down Spencer's grace and the muscles in his back clenched up in response so tight it was only his hand on the doorframe that kept him upright. He didn't notice as the wood groaned and dented under his fingers.

In the blink of an eye Gabriel was across the room and catching him up with one of his wings. It curled around him and Spencer tried not to sigh into it. He couldn't resist rubbing his cheek against one of the feathers that was right there, though. _See? Soft._

"Woah there, sparrow." Gabriel said, using his wing to draw Spencer in towards him while his hands came up to cup his face. "You're all right. I gotcha. Looks like I got here just in time, hm? Your wings really don't seem to want to wait."

Spencer snuck a glance over at the other two and then focused back on Gabriel. "They were doing fine before."

A new voice spoke up, deeper and heavier than the others. "Your grace is reacting to ours." Raphael told him. He took a step away from Michael and made as if to move towards Spencer, only to have Spencer push himself back against Gabriel. It was the same reaction he'd had to Michael, this need to get _back_ , to pull away from grace that he knew could do some serious damage if they wanted to. Castiel had been able to overpower him, to trick him, and he was just a seraph. What chance would he have against archangels?

"Back up, Raf." Gabriel snapped.

The other archangel stopped and froze in place. Something that looked like temper snapped in his eyes and his wings shuffled a little before they were pulled in against his back in a pose that was a lot less relaxed than before. He lifted both eyebrows. "I thought I was coming here to help, Gabriel?" His lips twitched into a small, barely there smirk. "Or, would you prefer _Loki_? I can't quite really tell."

There was something sharp to those words and a meaning to them that Spencer had a feeling he wasn't privy to. Whatever it was, it had Gabriel flinching ever so slightly and Michael standing up a bit straighter, wings lifting up. "Brothers." Michael said firmly, a warning easy to hear in his tone.

"Be mad at me all you want, bro." Gabriel cut in, venom dripping from his tone. His wing tightened around Spencer and his hands dropped from his face to rub over his biceps in a casually comforting gesture he probably didn't even realize he was doing. "Just keep in mind it's not me you're here for."

Raphael's lip curled up slightly. "Trust me, _brother_ – that is the only reason I'm here. I won't let a fledgling suffer because of you. There's been plenty of that already, wouldn't you say?"

This time it was much easier to read the pain on Gabriel. Spencer could _feel_ it; in his grace, in the twitch of his wings, in the way he straightened himself up and slipping on the mask that would get him through this, a move that Spencer had done himself plenty of times before. Gabriel was doing it now, pretending that this didn't hurt, biting his tongue – for _him_. And Spencer couldn't let him do it.

"No."

Spencer's voice rang out before anyone else's could. All eyes turned to him and he squared his shoulders, keeping himself up straighter than ever. They wouldn't cow him. He wouldn't stand here and shake and quiver in front of them and let them hurt Gabriel. The only weakness he allowed himself was the twist of his fingers through Gabriel's feathers. It reminded him that he had this archangel on his side and that Gabriel would support him and stand with him. Drawing on that, Spencer lifted his chin and forced on the calm that he'd learned to fake so long ago. "We don't need your help."

"Spencer," Gabriel tried to cut in, only to be silenced by a headshake from the fledgling. "No." Spencer said again. "We don't. We'll be fine without him."

He saw the surprised way that Raphael was looking at him now. "This is something new. From what I understand, even with my assistance there is a risk it is going to be painful. Without, it will be exceedingly so."

"The fact that you think that would deter me shows how little you know about me." Spencer shot back. "Almost as little as you appear to know your own brother. Or about manners."

He heard Gabriel make a choked sound beside him, though he missed the amused look that cross Michael's features. His attention was on Raphael. The youngest archangel was looking at Spencer with something that the young fledgling couldn't quite name. "You're a bold one." He said.

Spencer lifted one eyebrow in a look he hadn't even realized he'd picked up from the trickster at his side. "I've learned to be around bullies."

"You're not in the least bit scared of me, are you? You hold no fear, no awe, of who I am."

"On the contrary. I'm terrified." Spencer let out a laugh that didn't really hold any actual mirth to it. He felt Gabriel's wing push against his hand and took the comfort being offered, twisting his fingers in a little more to the soft touch. He never took his eyes from Raphael, though. "However, 'one of the greatest discoveries a man makes, one of his great surprises, is to find he can do what he was afraid he couldn't do.'" That was one of his favorite quotes, said by Henry Ford. "Being afraid of you doesn't mean that I'm not willing to stand up for what I believe or for what's important to me. I may be afraid of what you'll do, but I won't let it dictate my actions. I won't let it keep me from standing up for the one being who has showed me more respect and kindness than anyone ever has before. He humbled himself and went to you, knowing how you would treat him, and he stands here taking it from you solely for my benefit. What kind of person would it make me if I stood by and let you hurt him?"

The house seemed to echo with the silence that followed Spencer's words. Gabriel turned himself in towards Spencer a little more and pressed his forehead down to Spencer's shoulder. "Little bird." He reached out with his grace and Spencer willingly took the touch. He let it curl around him even more than ever before, not just a touch but an embrace, and emotion passed back and forth between the two. In that moment Spencer couldn't deny the word that he'd hidden from so far, the one he'd known but had refused to think. He felt Gabriel's love fill him and curl around him and he sent his own back in return. It was a strong love, like what he shared with his mother, only slightly different, almost more in its own way. It was on a level that Spencer would never be able to share with his mother; she didn't have the grace for it.

Their moment was cut short when Spencer's grace, caught up in the emotion that he was feeling and so eager – almost _starving –_ for the affection that Gabriel was giving him, started to push out once more. His wings shoved against his back and a hoarse cry tore free before Spencer could stop it. This time there was no keeping his feet. The muscles clenched and spasmed and his body dropped.

He'd barely fallen before Gabriel caught him up, wings and arms. "Spencer!"

"Bring him outside." Raphael said, and his voice sounded different than before, ringing with something that Spencer thought vaguely felt like worry. He didn't have long to think on it. Another spasm had him arching and crying out.

The world around Spencer moved. He didn't care; could barely think about it beyond this painful feeling that was ripping through his back.

"What's happening?" Another voice demanded. Michael – that was Michael.

"Gabriel said he's been fighting his grace. My guess, he stopped." Raphael answered him sharply. "Without him fighting it, it's growing and pushing to get free. We need to do this, _now_."

Things shifted and Spencer felt himself being drawn down and cradled against a body that had become familiar. He knew it was Gabriel who was holding him. Gabriel who had twisted him until Spencer was straddling his lap like a child, a leg on either side of the trickster's hips, his arms pinned between them and his hands clenched into fists in Gabriel's jacket. One of Gabriel's hands settled against the back of Spencer's head and drew it in until the fledgling could hide his face against Gabriel's neck, while his other hand slid down Spencer's back until it was under his bottom, lifting and pulling him in even closer. It was embarrassing and Spencer would've protested at any other moment. He would've argued that he wasn't the toddler he was suddenly being treated as. But right then he didn't give a damn about any of it. It hurt, it freaking _hurt_ , and all he wanted was closer. He whimpered and tried not to scream at the pain, pushing his face in against Gabriel's neck.

Something shifted and then Spencer felt the cool breeze blowing against his skin as his shirt was vanished away. "Dear Father." He heard a voice say behind him and he had no idea who it came from.

Hands settled onto his shoulders and they weren't Gabriel's, weren't _safe_ , and Spencer tightened himself against the trickster and tried to yank away from that touch. Immediately Gabriel started to stroke at his hair and murmur soothingly to him. "Shh, shh, it's okay, baby bird. It's just Raf. Let him help you, kiddo. He won't hurt you, I promise. Just let him help you."

Another spasm shot through him and Spencer squeezed his eyes shut tight. " _G'br'l_." His attempt at Gabriel's name came out thick and garbled through his clenched teeth.

"I know, I know." There was a pained sound to Gabriel's voice. His fingers threaded into Spencer's hair and he held on tight. "You trust me, right Spencer?"

" _Yes_."

"Then trust me now. Hold on tight, kiddo." Over Spencer's shoulder, he raised his voice and firmly said "Do it."

What came next was more pain than Spencer had ever known .He felt a hand press flat against his back and then something sharp was sliding through his skin leaving fiery trails behind that burned straight through to the core of him. His grace recoiled from hit and momentarily relieved him of the pressure, only to swarm back up when the cutting stopped. It pushed against his back and Spencer cried out hoarsely. Over the sound of his own cries he heard a voice saying "Hold him!" and then something was reaching beyond his skin, _inside him_ , and the pressure built higher and higher. He heard something else, too distant to reach him beyond the pounding in his ears and the sounds he was making. Then Gabriel's voice was at his ear, so close Spencer could feel his lips moving. "He needs you to help, sparrow. You've got to push them. Push, little bird. Push!"

Spencer gathered up whatever strength he could and, with every last bit of it, he _pushed_. The pressure grew and grew until Spencer swore he was going to split apart at the seams.

All of a sudden he felt as _something_ shoved its way out of his back and into the wide open air of the beach. Multiple 'something', shoving out and lifting high.

The pain was still there but it was a distant thing. The release of the pressure was so great Spencer slumped down against Gabriel's body. He didn't care about the little bit of pain that was still there. Little by little that was fading away with the trace of fingers over the broken skin of his back. Exhaustion like he'd never known pushed at him now and he couldn't even bring himself to lift his head from Gabriel's shoulder. He could sort of feel something different about himself, something that hadn't been there before, but it was distant. Kind of removed from him in a way. He was too tired to care about it. Too tired to even open his eyes.

"Oh, little bird." Gabriel's voice was still near his ear. He felt the trickster turn and press a kiss against his hair. "They're beautiful, Spencer. You're beautiful."

Some sound that utterly failed at being a word slipped past Spencer's lips.

He felt Gabriel chuckle and then the arms around him tightened. "Go to sleep, kiddo. This took a lot out of you. Just go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

That sounded like a good idea. Spencer didn't even bother trying to move. Between one breath and the next, he was asleep, his body passing out in sheer exhaustion.


	23. Between Hope and Destruction Part 10

The salty sea air blew through Gabriel's feathers as he used his wing to shelter his fledgling from the sun. Even after Spencer had passed out, the group had stayed out on the beach. Right now it was the safest and easiest place for Spencer to be at. Here he could lie on the blanket that Gabriel had snapped up and relax with his wings free without risking running them into anything. Besides, the breeze would help to air out the feathers that were still damp from where they'd had to clean out the blood – a task the three archangels had done by hand. Zapping away the blood didn't work on their wings.

A shudder ran down Gabriel and he fought down the urge to curl his wing around Spencer instead and draw him in close. The kid needed to rest, not to be coddled and squeezed. It was just – Dear Father, that was a sight that Gabriel could go the rest of his existence without ever again having to witness. All that blood, Spencer's blood, all over the sand and his back and Raphael's hands. It would take a long time before Gabriel would stop seeing that, or stop hearing his fledgling's screams as he pushed the wings out in an act that resembled the any labors Gabriel had seen over lifetimes.

It had been terrifyingly like birth. When they'd taken Spencer's shirt away and they'd been ale to see the wings pushing against his back, bulging against his skin, it'd been a horrifying thing. Nowhere near as horrifying as that first slice of Raphael's angel blade against his skin. It was only the knowledge that no one was more skilled than Raphael that kept Gabriel from fighting him. He'd had to hold on and stay strong and watch as the two worked together, with Michael shielding them the whole time, to get Spencer's wings free, and then they'd burst from his back and just like in childbirth, the pain had been momentarily forgotten for the glory.

Sweet merciful Father, his wings were _gorgeous_. If there had been any doubt whatsoever about who Spencer was, about _what_ he was, this would've dispelled it. Six wings lifted up from his back in a awe-inspiring display of color and light. They were the colors of the sunrise, shifting and changing, like the dark of the morning with the promise of incoming light. There were so many colors Gabriel knew he could spend a long time trying to catalogue them all. Blues and pinks and purples, dark to light, and all the shades of the morning oranges and yellows and reds. Lucifer had been their Lightbringer once a very long time ago. The Morningstar. Now they had Spencer, this quiet and brave little fledgling, and he was bringing them light of a different kind. He was the Incoming Light, the Bringer of Dawn, a promise of hope after darkness.

The sunlight shone off of Spencer's feathers and brought out the lighter of the colors. They were amazing and breathtaking. He lay on his stomach on the blanket with his wings spread free and his head in Gabriel's lap and for once, he looked at peace. His arms were up and loosely wrapped around Gabriel's waist in an embrace that had tightened when Gabriel tried to move him. Even unconscious, he didn't want to let go of the trickster. His arms stayed looped around Gabriel's waist and his cheek pillowed on his thigh.

Gabriel tilted his head up to look to where his brothers were. They still stood nearby, down by Spencer's feet, in silent awe and love of the little fledgling between them all. Gabriel brought his eyes to Raphael and waited until they caught his before he spoke. "Thank you." The words were low but they were packed full of everything else he couldn't say.

"I didn't do it for you." Raphael told him. However, it lacked the bitter edge that had been there earlier. His eyes dropped to Spencer and his wings seemed to crackle and soften. "I did it for him."

"I know, but that doesn't change it. Thank you."

They all fell silent again for a few as they watched Spencer's top wing twitch and lift, almost like a muscle spasm, only to be soothed back down when Gabriel's wing brushed over it. A vague thought passed over the trickster that he should take Spencer to meet his other children at some point. Fenrir would like him, he imagined, and the wolf's temper would startle Spencer only a bit. Gabriel had a feeling Spencer would be one of the few who would be able to see past that gruff and angry exterior, past the giant wolf form that Fen preferred to be in, to the soft person hidden inside. How any of the others reacted would probably be hit or miss. It could sort of go either way. Jor, especially, he could see causing a bit of trouble. He and Gabriel butted heads more than any of the others, though their love was no less strong, and Gabriel bringing in some fledgling he'd adopted would probably cause a bit of trouble with the Great Serpent.

Raphael was the one to bring up the one thing they were all thinking. What they'd been thinking since the moment Spencer's wings had emerged. "Well this certainly narrows down the mystery of his parentage a little, does it not?"

"Raphael." Michael said warningly. "Do not start."

The youngest of the archangels turned to look at his big brother with an air of mock innocence. "What? We both know who is responsible for this. I do not touch humans, brother, and unless you have been hiding things as well, I do not know of a time you were on earth to do such a thing. Our other brother was locked away at the time." He turned over to stare down at Gabriel, lip curled up into a sneer. "That leaves only one brother who has ever seen fit to lay with the humans."

"And who says that it has to be one of us?" Michael countered.

Raphael let out a low laugh. "Who else? You see his wings and I know you feel the power in his grace now that it is running free. That is not the grace gained from a simple seraph. He is powerful. I'd almost dare to say he could match or surpass your own when he finishes growing."

"He is the combination of two angels, something that's only been done once before." Michael said sharply. "We can make no assumptions. For all we know, this is typical for a fledgling made of two angels in human vessels."

Before the argument could progress further, Gabriel's sharp voice cut in. "It doesn't matter." He glared up at the two of them and fought hard to keep his emotions from getting out of control. Not because of them, but because he didn't want to upset the fledgling clinging to him. There was no telling what Spencer would feel right now. Gabriel laid a hand on his head, carding his fingers through Spencer's hair, and tried to keep from growling. "It doesn't matter who his parents are or how he was made. I told Mikey before and I'll tell you the same thing now: I Claimed him. He's _mine_. Even if we reached in and tested his grace or flew into the past to see who his parents really are, it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't give him up. He's mine and I'll fight anyone dumb enough to try and take him away from me." He spread out the wings that weren't draped over Spencer and he let them strengthen, changing the feathers from the softness that he usually wrapped his fledgling up in to the hardness that all angels could use in battle. It was an open threat and one he knew his little brother would understand.

A low growl filled the air and Gabriel was stunned to see it didn't come from Raphael – it came from Michael.

The furious archangel shoved his way between the two of them and his wings snapped high and wide in a dominance display that clearly let them know that he was done with their bullshit. "I have had _enough_ from you two!" The air seemed to vibrate with the force of his words and the island shuddered. Energy crackled in the air as Michael looked from one to the other. "You two will stop this bickering, _now_. Whatever problems you have with each other can be handled on your own time. We have too much on our plates to indulge such pettiness! We have battle after battle in our future and if we do not stand united, than everything we know will fall. So cease arguing like fledglings before I begin to treat you like some. Do I make myself clear?"

It wasn't an idle threat, Gabriel knew. Despite the situation, though, he couldn't help the way his lips twitched. Sometimes it was easy to see why Dean was Michael's vessel. In that speech from Michael, the trickster could clearly hear Dean's voice. Though his would've been more along the lines of ' _Stop acting like assholes and stow your crap before I kick your ass_ '.

On Michael's other side, he could see as Raphael's wings twitched a little in what was the angelic equivalent of him trying to hide a smile. Their eyes met over the top of one of Michael's wings and for one brief moment, the years and anger fell away between them and they were once more the two youngest archangels, the baby brothers, caught in trouble once more and trying not to laugh through one of Michael's lectures.

"We got it, bro." Gabriel said, lips still threatening to curve. He lowered his own wings and let them soften again. Then he laid them over Spencer's wings and let them pet gently.

"We do." Raphael agreed.

Michael straightened back up and nodded. "I should hope so." Drawing his wings in, he held himself at his full height, once more the calm general. "We have much to accomplish and no idea on how much time we have to do any of it. Raphael, I want you to return home and continue where I left off. Any groups foolish enough to go against my word and continue to try and push the apocalypse must be dealt with as we discussed. Gabriel, stay here and help Spencer to cope and learn as much control as quickly as he possibly can. Much as I loathe to rush him, we are under a time constraint."

"I won't push him faster than he can go." Gabriel warned him.

"You might not get much of a choice." Michael shot back immediately. "You know what we face now and what we face after. We don't know how this will work, Gabriel, or how much time we have for any of it. We cannot risk coddling him. He needs to learn, quickly. He needs properly trained – something that we will need to see to once Lucifer is handled. However, for now, we must get his wings under control so that you and he can return to the Winchesters and we can begin to deal with our other brother. Until you return, I will guard them for you."

Michael was going to go guard the Winchesters? Oh, that was such a horrible idea. Such a horrible, horrible idea. Gabriel pushed down his anger and fear about Michael's other orders – later, they could address Michael's talk of training and his attempts to force Spencer into being a warrior – for now he had to try and say something about this before Michael got them all in trouble. "Michael…"

"Do not argue, brother. We have not the time. We shall see you within a few days, I hope. Take care of him and I will take care of the humans." With no more than that, Michael was gone.

For a moment the beach was quiet. Then Gabriel blew out a breath and shook his head. He looked up and found Raphael looking just as consternated as he was. "Some things never change." Gabriel said dryly.

"And some things do." Raphael said. His voice was soft and just a bit sad. He looked at Gabriel just a moment more and then, in a rustle of feathers, he was gone as well.

Damn. Gabriel shut his eyes and briefly hung his head. He hated family reunions. No one could rip you apart inside quite the way that family could. There was a reason he'd stayed away as long as he had. He couldn't stand the fighting.

The arms around his waist began to shift and Gabriel opened his eyes once more. He looked down at the little one who was slowly waking in his lap and he knew that any of the fights were worth it. He'd put up with Raphael's taunts and quiet hurt and Michael's bossiness if it meant keeping his little sparrow alive. They had a hard road ahead and there was no telling what would happen to any of them

* * *

By the time Gabriel and Spencer returned to the Winchesters only two days later, Spencer had learned an amazing amount of control over his wings. Gabriel thought it might come from the fact that Spencer truly wasn't fighting his grace the way that he had been. He still tried to keep it close, true, but not like he had been. Before, he'd fought to keep it locked down all the time except for the tiny little tendrils that he shared with Gabriel. Now it was there, swirling and floating inside of him, lit up with the same light that showed in his wings. He no longer tried to cage it so tightly.

He reached out to Gabriel with it more, too. In a way he was more like a true fledgling. He and Gabriel touched grace all the time and Gabriel was awash in the hesitant and shy love of his little fledgling. The bond between them strengthened with it, Gabriel's Claim clear on him now. It was this open use of his grace that probably helped Spencer to learn so quickly. His instincts, when not being fought back, helped to teach him. He had an amazing control now of movement and he could pull his wings in and tuck them into the little pocket dimension all angels learned to hide their wings in while in vessels. Gabriel found it a lot easier to teach him now that he could brush their graces together and share the thoughts on what he would need to do.

But as they appeared in the latest Winchester motel room, it was sad yet not all that surprising to feel Spencer draw his wings in and keep his grace a bit closer. The new level of trust Spencer had learned didn't extend to other angels and now that they were off the safety of their island he was playing it safe. Smart, yes, but still a little sad. Gabriel had liked the openness between them. It reminded him of what it was like at home, before everything had gone wrong.

He didn't exactly get time to dwell on it, though. One look as he landed and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He looked at Dean and jerked a thumb to the side. "Who's this bozo?"

"What?" Dean looked confused by the question.

Oh, you had to be kidding him. Seriously? "You mean you don't know?" Gabriel looked to Spencer, who was staring at Sam with a look that clearly said _he_ knew, and then he looked up at Sam himself – or, more accurately, Sam's body and whatever soul was currently riding around in it – and then back over to Dean. "Seriously. Your baby brother gets soul-swapped and you're telling me you _didn't even realize it_?"

The kid in Sam's body obviously didn't know a whole lot about the supernatural. He'd already looked scared by Spencer and Gabriel's arrival and now he was backing away from them like he really thought he could run. A bit of grace from Spencer kept him from going far. Gabriel sent a small swell of thanks to him and kept his focus on Dean. "I can't leave you muttonheads alone for _two whole days_ without you getting knee deep in some kind of shit, can I? No, of course not. I go away for some important stuff and leave you in Mikey's care and what happens to you? You decide to go all Freaky Friday on us!" Tilting his head back, Gabriel glared up at the ceiling. "Great job looking out for them, Mikey!"

When he looked back down he saw that Dean was finally catching on to what was going on here. _Finally_. "That's not… that's not Sam?" He turned to glare at 'Sam', who was staring at them with wide, fearful eyes. "Who the hell is it, then? Who are you?"

Spencer snapped his fingers and the grace around 'Sam' changed. Apparently he'd not only been holding the kid – he'd gagged him, too. Smart one. Gabriel was always just a bit pleased to see the smart and kind of devious side of the kid when it came out.

Now that his mouth was free, 'Sam' immediately started to plead with them. "Please, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry please don't kill me!"

"No one's going to kill you." Spencer reassured him. Off to the side, Dean grumbled a low "Says who?" that Gabriel was tempted to echo. Instead of adding to Dean's threat with words, Gabriel just let his smirk grow into his best trickster grin; the one that had terrified the hell out of many mortals and plenty of gods as well.

Spencer, little shit that he was, rolled his eyes at them, entirely unafraid of either one of them. It was a nice change that Gabriel had every intention of encouraging. He strolled forward and moved up to stand in front of 'Sam'. Even though Spencer didn't look it from a distance the two were close enough in height that Spencer didn't have to tip his head much to look at him. "Ignore them for a moment. I'm telling you, unless you give us absolute reason than no one here will harm you. We just need to know who you are and what you've done with Sam."

'Sam's' eyes darted over towards them like he wasn't quite sure what to say or do.

"No." Spencer said, drawing his attention back to him. "Ignore them. They're not happy with you and you don't want to deal with them, trust me. They both care quite a lot for Samuel. I'm your best bet here in handling this in a calm and peaceful manner. I won't hurt you and I won't let them hurt you unless you give just cause for us to do so. I just want some answers. Can you start with telling me your name?"

"Gary." The kid squeaked out. That young, scared voice sounded strange coming from Sam.

Smiling, Spencer nodded a little, a silent reward for answering the question. "Thank you, Gary. Now, can you tell me where Sam is?"

"I don't want to die." Gary wheezed out. "Please, I don't want to die."

"Then tell us where my brother is!" Dean growled out harshly.

It almost made Gabriel laugh to see the glare that Spencer shot his way. Any other time and he might've actually let out that laugh. But not right now. Right now, he needed to know where Sam was so he could go get him back and _fix this_.

Spencer turned back towards Gary and straightened himself up a little more. His voice remained low and his grace was projecting calm around him, probably without the fledgling even realizing. "Don't listen to him, Gary. Just ignore him and focus on me. Please, can you tell me, where's Sam? It's very important. We need to get him back here, quickly, before something much worse than you can understand comes for him, or for you. Please, where is he?"

"In my – my friend's basement." Gary blurted out. "His parents are out of town."

That was all Gabriel needed to hear. He brushed a wing over Spencer to let him know he'd be right back and then he turned and took off. He'd caught a glimpse in Gary's mind of the basement when the kid had said it and he knew where to find Sam now.

It looked like he landed in just enough time, too. Right as he got there he saw as a demon in the body of an innocent girl was smirking at the stupid teenage boy in front of her, who was telling her "Uh, we have Dean Winchester."

"You do?" The demon said, gleefully. "Where?"

Gabriel didn't bother hiding himself. He smirked and stepped right up to Sam's side, dropping one hand down on the kid's shoulder. His eyes stayed fixed on the demon. "Nowhere you'll ever know, sweet cheeks." With his grace, he froze the two across from him, holding them in place and keeping the demon from smoking out.

Under his hand, the archangel felt Sam relax, some of his tension draining away, and that just made him grin. Definite ego boost right there. With Sam safely under his hand, and some pathetic demon in front of him that he wouldn't even break a sweat getting rid of, he didn't have to really worry anymore. He could appreciate the amusement in some of this. He heard Sam let out the breath he'd been holding. "Loki."

Gabriel's smirk grew. "I appreciate the effort, kid, but I'm not hiding here." He gave Sam's shoulder one last squeeze and then turned his smirk down to him, softening it around the edges. "Tell the boys I'll be back shortly. I think our little friend and I are going to have us a bit of a _chat_ first."

There was no chance for Sam to argue. A snap of Gabriel's fingers and Sam was gone, sent back to the motel with the others. That left Gabriel free to focus on the frozen teen and the demon in front of him. "All right then." He said cheerfully. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he strolled forward. "What say you and I have us a chat, hm, sweetheart?"

* * *

Everything was in order by the time that Gabriel snapped back to the motel room. Sam was back in his own body and he and Dean were standing side by side, glaring down at the teenager – Gary. It wasn't any real surprise to find that Spencer was seated beside Gary. The kid was soft-hearted to begin with and even more so with someone so obviously young. What was surprising was seeing Michael standing at the side of the room. The archangel had his arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes were watching the scene with a look that probably seemed cold or hard to the others, but which told Gabriel just how pissed off his brother truly was.

Gabriel moved over to his brother's side and leaned back against the wall there. "Hey, bro. Who pissed in your cornflakes?"

That was very much worth the bewildered look it earned him. "Gabriel, what exactly…"

"It means 'what pissed you off'? You look ready to chew metal and spit out nails."

"As the Messenger, should it not be your job to _speak clearly_?" Michael asked blandly. Then he sighed and looked back over at the others, who were turning to watch them. With their audience, Michael opted not to speak out loud. _'I should have recognized that something was amiss. I was supposed to be guarding them and I missed this.'_

Ah, yeah. Should've figured he'd get his panties in a twist about that. Gabriel rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath. "No harm no foul. Everyone's back to where they should be and our little demon was taken care of." He pitched his voice just enough for the others to be able to hear him, including them in their conversation. "I put a little Heavenly fear into the other two. They won't be meddling in something like this any time soon. _And_ I got a little Hell gossip while I was at it."

"Hell gossip?" Dean perked up at that. "What'd the sulfur sucker have to say?"

Gabriel's saccharine grin made the hunter grimace. "Don't you worry, boy-o. I'll share with you two later. For now," Strolling forward, he ignored the curious looks from Dean and Michael, the terrified one from Gary, and the knowing one from Spencer. He focused right on Sam and the play of emotions that flashed over his face. Gratitude, worry, heat, affection, quickly there and gone again on his face. Gabriel's grin grew brighter and a bit more devilish by the time he reached Sam. Then, in a quick move no one could stop, he caught hold of Sam's shirt with one hand and yanked him down, curling his other hand around the back of his neck. Then he pulled him in for a hard kiss. Sam didn't even struggle. He froze for one moment, stunned, and then almost melted down into him.

"Oh, dammit!" Dean shouted out behind them. "Get off my brother!"

There was a strange sound and Gabriel could feel Spencer stopping Dean from coming forward. That was all the attention he paid, though. Why would he care about that when he was finally getting ot taste the honey that was Sam Winchester's lips?

When Gabriel pulled back, nipping on his bottom lip as he went, he was pleased to see the flush on Sam's cheeks and the dazed look in his eyes. "Be a little more careful next time, eh, Princess?"

Sam only faltered for a second at the nickname. Then his own lips quirked up just a bit. "I thought you said I was a Queen. There're no princesses in chess."

Chuckling, Gabriel winked. "Can't be a Queen without a King, sweetheart." He winked and pressed one last quick kiss to Sam's lips. "Take care of yourself till I get back, _Princess_. I got to talk to Mikey real quick."

He was still grinning when he turned around and almost skipped back over to Michael. His big brother was watching him with a look from Gabriel's childhood; one of fond indulgence. It told the trickster that his brother had been paying a bit more attention to things than he'd believed, or he'd caught on to more of it in their hug and grace sharing than Gabriel had meant for him. Whatever it was, he wasn't arguing, wasn't angry, so Gabriel would take it.

He brushed a hand over Spencer's hair as he passed him by and winked at him as well. "Keep an eye on these two chuckleheads till I get back? Big bro and I need a quick chat about some things and then I'll come back and explain stuff. Just, try and keep them out of trouble for me?"

"Of course." Spencer murmured. Silently, he added _Be safe, please._

 _Always,_ Gabriel sent back. Then, with a rustle of wings, he and Michael were gone.

* * *

 _I know it feels rushed but I was thinking later on I might do a timestamp to show Spencer's weekend of wing-training. Otherwise it might take up more than one chapter. Anything less would be condensing it way too much. For now, I hope you guys are satisfied with this chapter. We're moving forward :)_


	24. Between Hope and Destruction Part 11

One of these days he was going to get Gabriel back for his little pranks. Spencer sat in the backseat of the impala and tried not to shift around in the heavy silence that had fallen over them ever since Gabriel had vanished and Dean had stormed out of the room with only a growl of "Get your shit, we're leaving in five."

Things had been tense ever since Gabriel had yanked Sam down for that kiss. Spencer, for his part, was actually rather pleased to see that happen. He'd read the books, he'd spoken with Gabriel. He knew how his guardian felt about Sam. In some ways he probably knew a little better than Gabriel would actually like him to. He could see just how much Sam meant to him. To see him finally step up and put himself out there and actually take what he wanted, to see him get this chance at being happy in the middle of all this mess, it made Spencer's heart and grace both sigh happily.

Unfortunately, their other observer hadn't thought so. It was obvious that Dean wasn't all too pleased with these events. It was equally obvious that he was trying to restrain his temper just the slightest bit. Whether it was because of Spencer's presence, or because he didn't trust himself to stay somewhat calm, or what, Spencer didn't know. But Dean was keeping his lips sealed.

There wasn't even the sound of his music blaring to break the silence. The whole car was just...quiet. Spencer found it rather unnerving.

For about the tenth or eleventh time since they'd gotten into the car, the mood and the confined space both had Spencer shifting to try and get more comfortable. He'd spent all weekend learning about his wings and how to use them, how to hide them, even how to begin to prepare his muscles for flight - muscles that Gabriel said he needed to exercise and grow before he made any flight attempts. But doing all that on a private island with only Gabriel's cheerful company was one thing. Compacting himself into the back of the impala with two people up front - one of whom was beyond furious and one of whom was alternating between deliriously happy and extremely worried and just a bit guilty - wasn't fun at all.

Spencer's grace responded to emotions. Empathy, Gabriel called it. Dealing with that had been in his earliest lessons, right alongside the telepathy. What he hadn't expected was how much stronger his empathy was with his wings free. Gabriel said it was because wings were made of grace, and your wings being out allowed you to pick up more, to feel more. Sometimes Spencer swore he could taste it. A flavor on the back of his tongue that had him wanting to shift again and again and try to resettle himself.

He had his wings tucked away. Gabriel described it as 'dumping them into a pocket dimension to hide out. It's how I stayed hidden so long. You think I could wander around with these bad boys free and somehow manage to keep hidden? Yeah, right!'

It wasn't the most comfortable of things, though. Gabriel assured him that the weird itching feeling would eventually go away, or he'd just get used to it. Until then, he was stuck shifting and trying to get comfortable, flexing his wings out in a dimension that no one else would be able to see. His wings wanted to be free, to be with him, but that just wasn't smart or safe. Besides which, he still wasn't that great at not accidentally making them solid sometimes. At the beach house, that didn't matter. Gabriel laughed when one of his wings knocked something over or struck a wall - or one memorable time, actually knocking Gabriel off his seat. Out here Spencer had to be a bit more careful.

His shuffling wasn't going unnoticed, though. Sam caught on to it first and Spencer found concerned eyes turned back his way. "Are you okay, Spencer?"

"I'm fine." Spencer answered immediately. It was the answer he always gave. "I'm just, adjusting. Gabriel says I have rather decent control but some of it is taking a bit of getting used to."

That seemed to be enough of a reminder to pull Sam out of his own thoughts and have him shifting so that he could better face Spencer. There was a light on his face that Spencer recognized. It was a sensation he'd felt himself plenty of times over – the thrill of new information. "I can't even begin to imagine. It has to be a huge adjustment to make."

There were other questions under that which Spencer could sense. Questions that he really couldn't blame Sam for wanting to ask. However, he knew the younger Winchesters was too polite to actually ask them. Some, yes. The ones that weren't _too_ personal. As for the rest? He was just too polite to put Spencer on the spot by asking them. His excitement and eagerness were easy for the fledgling to feel, though. He couldn't quite keep the smile off his lips as he looked up at Sam. "It is and it isn't." He finally said in response. "Gabriel made sure to teach me how to hide them, so right now my wings are essentially tucked away, hidden from sight of anyone. It's why I keep shifting, actually. It feels strange to have a part of myself tucked away and it makes my back sort of…itch. Well, not really my back. My grace at the back of my vessel."

Thinking of his body as a 'vessel' was definitely one of those things that would take some time to get used to.

He was kind of surprised when Dean broke his pissed off silence to ask "So you've got, like, actual wings? Not just some strange sort of grace-thing, but real wings?"

"You could probably classify them as both." Spencer answered, his voice a bit thoughtful as he tried to put this into words. "They are an extension of my grace. A hint of my True Form, you could say, only compacted down just like the rest of me. Gabriel assures me they'll be much larger when I finally get to release my True Form. However, they _are_ physical, I can assure you. I knocked them into plenty of things, Gabriel included, as I learned control."

"Are they anything like angel wings in pictures?" Sam asked eagerly.

That took a bit more thought. "Yes and no." So far all his answers seem to be somewhere along the line of 'a bit of both'. "There's a valid reasoning behind why Gabriel calls me 'little bird'. Wings are slightly avian like. The basic structure is the same. Only, they're so much more, in ways I'm not sure I can begin to describe. The feathers…they can be so soft. Soft as down. And yet they can turn hard and extremely sharp."

Sam looked surprised at that. "Really?"

Nodding, Spencer sat up a little more, never able to help himself when it came to sharing knowledge. He always wanted to share what he knew with people. "Absolutely. Otherwise they'd extremely useless. Imagine the damage that could be done if our wings were soft and easy to hurt like an actual bird's. Gabriel says they can be just as much weapons as anything else. They also require, well, for lack of a better term – _preening_. Being angelic doesn't stop them from picking up debris when flying, or from the feathers ending up twisted. Gabriel's had to help out a lot there." He flushed a little bit at that; it felt sort of, intimate to talk about. Preening his feathers was something Gabriel had showed him how to do and it had felt like a sort of family thing. It seemed to him that it would require a lot of trust to have someone help. Wings had to be soft to clean and groom them – if the person helping was someone you didn't trust, they could end up seriously hurting you.

He really should've tried to find a way to talk about this without mentioning Gabriel, though. The sound of his name was enough to have Dean growling again. Spencer watched in discomfort, and just a hint of the horror a spectator feels as they see a car crash happening just ahead, as Sam sighed and turned to face Dean. "Dude, if you've got a problem, speak up and say something."

Spencer winced and tried to duck down in his seat. This wasn't going to be pleasant.

He had no idea how right he was. The car jerked towards the shoulder, sending Sam and Spencer both flying. Sam braced on the dash but Spencer slid across the car and slammed into the door with a grunt and a glare for the front seat. Just a little glare, though. He wasn't stupid enough to try and attract Dean's attention right now. Spencer knew very well how to hide out from the tempers of people around him. He kept himself pressed against the door and very much tried to keep himself invisible as Dean yanked open the driver's door and almost flung himself from the car. From behind Sam it was hard for Spencer to really see the younger Winchester, and he couldn't see his face, but he could see as Sam drew in a deep breath as if in preparation. Then Sam was climbing out of the car as well.

Oh, yeah, this was going to go so well. Spencer chewed on his bottom lip and watched as the two men faced off at the front of the car. Dean wasn't exactly trying to keep himself quiet. Spencer could hear loud and clear as he demanded to know "What the hell is it with you? Why do you always pick these...these...?"

Whatever Sam said was too low to be heard. His face, though – that showed a lot of temper.

Dean's temper wasn't any better. Whatever Sam said sure pissed him off even more. The two moved even closer and Spencer winced again. One didn't have to be a profiler to see how this was going to go. They weren't getting louder but their bodies were clearly showing how pissed off they were. It was going to come to blows soon enough, he would put money on it.

Sure enough, not even ten seconds later Sam swung a punch that sent Dean flying.

Spencer told himself that he needed to stay out of it. That this wasn't his fight and getting involved would be stupid and would only cause trouble. They were brothers and he'd heard that siblings sometimes did this sort of thing. It was apparently normal, at least to some brothers he'd talked to. He just needed to stay here safely inside the car and keep out of their business. That resolve lasted right up until Dean launched himself up off the ground in a tackle that took Sam down with him.

Mentally running through a list of curses in almost every language he knew, the young fledgling scrambled out of the car, tripping a little and almost falling in his haste to get out. By the time he was out and on his feet, the two brothers were still rolling around trading punches that made Spencer wince in sympathy. Only brief sympathy, though. Then he steeled himself and tried to think on what Aaron or Derek or even Dave might do in a situation like this. He drew on his memories of them, experiences of countless times where they'd waded into a dangerous situation with volatile Unsubs – privately, he mocked himself for thinking of these two along those lines, yet it was far too fitting at the moment – and then he squared his shoulders and strode forward. If he'd thought about it he would've realized that his increased physical strength would've made him able to pull them apart from one another easily. But a lifetime of being small and scrawny wasn't someone one just put aside. Too used to thinking of himself as slightly weaker, he fell back on something he'd always had, something he knew better how to use now – his telekinesis.

Bands of grace fueled power wrapped around either brother and dragged them away from one another. "That is _enough_." His voice was hard and firm despite how he instinctively wanted to draw backwards when two hot and hard glares were leveled his way. Forcing himself to stay tall under them, he kept pulling the boys until Dean was pressed against the impala and Sam was pressed against the guardrail. Both were still sitting. That was deliberate. He'd kept them down low to give himself some illusion of height over them, knowing that his words and attitude would have more effect if he was towering over them instead of glaring eye to eye. Or, in Sam's case, glaring up at him.

Being a profiler meant being able to read body language. However, you couldn't study it without learning how to _use_ it even just a little. Spencer drew on every trick he could to try and make himself seem a little more powerful, just a little more in charge than he knew he actually was. The trick to this was going to be to keep them off balance. It was the only way he'd be able to manage anything here with them.

Spencer crossed his arms over his chest and gave them the sternest look he could give. It was nothing on Aaron's, he knew, but hopefully it would do the trick. His back tensed and he knew if the others could see his wings they'd see them lifted up and spread wide in a display of dominance that probably would've made them laugh at him. "You two are being utterly ridiculous." He told them. When they opened their mouths to protest, the both of them, he went on without giving them a chance to say anything. "No, I don't want to hear it. I already heard plenty enough. This is neither the time nor the place for this. We have far bigger, far more important things to worry about than your inability to get along like normal, decent human beings. If you two want to throw punches and shout simply because you can't agree on something, kindly save it until we're at least at the motel."

"This is none of your business, Doc." Dean growled out, glaring hotly at him.

Inside, Spencer's stomach twisted a little. He hated conflict. On the outside he carried the calm he'd learned as a profiler. Panicking in tense situations was a quick way to get yourself and your team killed. "If you wanted this to be private between the two of you, I recommend you try handling it somewhere that isn't the side of a _public road_. Now, if you two are done being ridiculous, may we please get back on the road?"

He released them both from the bonds that held them. Then he didn't bother waiting; turning, he marched right back to the car and climbed into the backseat. He only had to sit there for a moment before both brothers got up. They didn't say anything, at least not with words. Just a few looks between them and they were both making their way back to the impala. No one said anything as they started back down the road once more. At least this time Dean reached out and turned on some music. Otherwise, it was quiet. Spencer tried to ignore it and the emotions in the air that were easily felt in the backseat. He just curled up and let the music wash over him. He didn't say anything more about the fight and he didn't offer to heal either one of them. Let them carry their bruises. The idiots.

* * *

It wasn't until they arrived at their motel for the night that anyone broke the silence again. No one had talked through most of the day and they might've continued to be quiet with one another if Spencer hadn't been the one to speak up. But when the young genius went to get out of the car, he noticed something that he couldn't quite keep quiet about. For a second he hesitated with his hand just above the door. Then he gave a mental shrug. It would piss Dean off, sure, but maybe giving him something else to be mad about would be a good thing. "Dean."

Dean paused in the act of climbing out of the car, though he didn't turn to look at him yet. "Yeah?"

Biting at the inside of his lip, Spencer looked at the door again and then brought his eyes up to the back of Dean's head. "I'd like to preface this by saying that this, um, this wasn't my fault."

That definitely had him tensing up. Slowly, Dean turned to look at him, his eyebrows furrowed down and the lines in his face set a bit deep. There was more confusion than temper so far, though. "What?"

"This wasn't my fault." Spencer repeated, slipping his hand towards the door handle. Both brothers were turned in their seats now to look at him and they were giving him identical looks of confusion. Spencer tried to smile in that easy and reassuring way like Derek could do when he was in trouble and he knew it, and he was hoping to get out of it. Spencer tried and knew that he was failing pretty horribly at it. "See, um…You're the one that jerked the car to the side of the road and sent me into the door. So, really, this wasn't my fault at all. Just…just keep that in mind." With that, he moved just enough for Dean to be able to see the shoulder sized dent in the interior of the car door. It was where Spencer's shoulder had connected when he'd slammed sideways.

Up in the front seat, Sam sucked in a sharp breath and quickly smothered a smile while Dean made this noise that was strangely like a wounded animal and stared with wide eyes. Spencer flushed a little and spread his hands out, palms up. "At least my head didn't crack the window." Somehow, he had a feeling Dean wasn't as reassured by that as he'd hoped.

When Dean scrambled out of the car, his intentions obvious, Spencer decided it would be much smarter to quickly slide across the seat and out the other door so that he wasn't by that one when Dean got there. Good thing, too, as Dean yanked that door open and immediately started to curse. Spencer stared over the car and went back to chewing on his lip. Dean couldn't blame him for that, could he?

"He won't." Sam said lowly.

Spencer looked up in surprise at the man who had managed to sneak up beside him. "I thought I was the mind reader in the group." Spencer pointed out wryly.

A smile flashed over Sam's features and warmed them. "You are. I just know my brother, and I know that look. Trust me, Dean'll bitch, he'll moan, he'll try and make up stupid rules about you being in that seat or about something else, but he's not going to actually blame you. He knows it's not your fault and he likes you too much anyways."

"Likes me?" Spencer's eyebrows shot up at that. As far as he knew, Dean _tolerated_ him most of the time.

One of Sam's hands came to rest on Spencer's shoulder and it gave a small squeeze. "He likes you, Spencer. We both do. What's between us, past and present, doesn't change that."

The flush came back to Spencer's cheeks even deeper than before. He dropped his gaze down and stuffed his hands into his pockets, shuffling just a little. He didn't really know how to handle open displays of emotion like that. It'd taken him a bit to adjust to it with Gabriel, someone that he trusted implicitly. It would take a little longer for him to get there with these guys. Flustered and not quite sure how to react to it, Spencer took a small step back, putting just a bit of space between them. "I'm um, I'm going to go take a walk." Spencer stammered out, cursing himself for the slight stutter that could hit when he was nervous. One of his hands came up and tucked a bit of long hair behind his ear as he smiled over at Sam, hoping to reassure the sudden worry he saw there. "It's fine, Sam. I just think it might be a good idea if I let the two of you get settled in here and maybe work some things out without me in the middle. I won't go far, just over there," He gestured with one hand towards the creek that showed just a ways away from their motel. They'd passed a small bridge over it to get here. "You can come find me when you're done, if you want, or I'll just make my way back eventually."

Spencer didn't really plan on going too far. He set out from the motel, hands in the pockets of the sweater he'd snapped up earlier inside the impala. The boys did need a chance to talk and Spencer wanted them to have the privacy to do it. Not only was it not his business, he also wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep his mouth shut if Dean started to say the things about Gabriel that Spencer suspected he might.

If he had to step into that, the shaky truce that he and the Winchester had built might be irrevocably damaged. Because Spencer doubted he could tolerate listening to the kind of insults that he'd already heard tumbling through Dean's thoughts. Hearing them there had been hard enough. He'd had to remind himself that people couldn't be judged for angry thoughts. If it came out of his mouth, though…

The friendship he had with the Winchesters was still new, still shaky sometimes. They were still working their way through a lot of stuff. Though, as Spencer thought about it, he was surprised to realize that his anger towards them, the resentment he'd felt towards their treatment of him, was so much less than it had been. He'd barely thought about it at all in days now. That surprised Spencer.

Picking his way along the hill, Spencer followed the grass down to the creek, not really thinking much about the motel behind him. There was a part of his mind that registered the boys on some level, kept tabs on them automatically as Gabriel had taught him to do. The rest of him was focused on his thoughts. Even as he found a large rock and sat himself down on it, staring at the water in front of him, most of his thoughts were turned inward.

When had he started to let go of that resentment? It wasn't that the memories were any easier to handle. Thinking of that panic room was still enough to make him shiver and his stomach clench. But, somewhere along the way he'd started to let go of his anger. Not that he'd ever been that good at holding on to it to begin with.

 _They're more than what I thought they were_ , Spencer thought to himself. _All of them. Sam, Dean – Castiel._

That last name had him pulling in a little. Where he could admit right in this moment that he'd started to forgive the Winchesters, he wasn't sure how he felt about their angel. So far he and Castiel had managed to avoid one another. That wasn't going to work forever. But, it just…Spencer blew out a breath and drew his knees up, folding his arms on top of them and resting his chin on his arms. He could still remember the feel of Castiel's grace inside of him, the way it had been so warm, so wonderful, and how he'd been reaching for it only to have it turn on him.

Spencer wanted nothing more than to just avoid thinking about this. To just let it go until he absolutely had to finally face it. That would've been how he would've handled this anywhere else, in any other situation. But this wasn't any other situation. This was a war they were in. One that couldn't afford to have some of its key players mad with one another. This needed to be handled – soon. Or else it could get someone killed.

One word in all that had Spencer shivering again and pressing in against himself a little tighter.

War.

This was a war. One that, it would see, he was a key player in. More than that, there was something else after this, something _more_ , _worse_ than fighting against the devil and stopping the apocalypse. Something that directly involved _him_.

Gabriel promised to explain it to them once this whole apocalypse was over. Pathetic as it was, Spencer was content to never find out. Something inside of him told him that whatever he found out was going to change his life even more than it already had been – change it in ways he was never, ever going to be able to come back from.

Right now he at least held onto hope, futile as it might've been, that one day he could have his life back. That one day he could go _home_. This…this might take that hope away from him, and he just didn't know if he could handle that.

On the edge of Spencer's senses he felt something coming. There was only enough time to push to his feet and turn to the open grass behind him before suddenly a red haired woman appeared there. Her grace showed bright and clear, with wings of white and red lifting up beautifully behind her. Only, as Spencer looked, there was something else in her grace, something…off. Something not quite right. Like it was…damaged?

Whatever it was, it put him on edge. Defensively he checked all his own powers, made sure that his wings were hidden. He didn't have pagan magic like Gabriel to hide his grace behind. But he'd been practicing how to try and hide it a different way. In that moment he regretted that he had yet to be able to learn. This woman would know he had grace now that she was right in front of him. Gabriel had said people couldn't hunt him down or track him at all if he didn't want to be found. But being right in front of him? He wasn't hidden then.

The woman smiled at him in a way that made him shiver. It wasn't entirely…sane. "What do we have here?" She asked in a faux sweet voice.

Spencer braced himself, ready to run, ready to get out of here as quickly as he could manage. _Not back to the motel._ No, not there. He couldn't lead her to the Winchesters. No, if he ran, it would be in the different direction, leading her _away._ That was even if she was willing to be led away. If she were here for them…the thought made his stomach twist. He wouldn't let this angel with the broken grace anywhere near the brothers. First, though, he needed to find out why she was here and what she wanted. He needed to know who she was here for before he could make the decision on what to do. With that in mind, he schooled his voice as steady as possible and asked her "Can I help you?"

Her smile slipped away and there was a hint of something underneath, a bit of who she might've once been. It was almost, regret. "You weren't expected." She told him, answering his first question. "I came here for the Winchesters and, instead, I find a little nephilim sitting on the sidelines. Are you following them?"

The way she said 'nephilim' it was easy to hear other words in its place. He could hear the 'abomination' underneath it and it cut deeply – a lot deeper than he'd thought it would. He pushed that pang aside and straightened up, putting on his most confused expression. "Who?" Best to try and play dumb and see what he could find out. She apparently hadn't been watching them – he knew that already. If she had she would've known that he was _with_ them, not following them.

The glare that took her features said clearly that she wasn't falling for it, though. "Don't play me." She warned him. Her arm shifted and Spencer saw the angel blade slip from her grace to drop down into her hand. "Do you think to guard them? I was around in the War, child. I fought the _shshaw_ before. You don't scare me. I won't let you stop me from reaching them."

The word resonated inside of Spencer and there was a part of him, that part that seemed to just _know_ _things_ sometimes, that whispered the meaning of that word to him. _Shshaw – Wingless_. A name some angels used for the nephilim.

He didn't correct her. Even without Gabriel's warnings that he needed to keep himself hidden, that not everyone would understand about a human fledgling, he still wouldn't have revealed himself to her. Hiding had been the name of the game for a very long time and it was only more so now. So he didn't comment on that part of things. He did, however, spread his hands out in what he hoped was a peaceful gesture even as his mind began to race to think of a way to get out of this. Only one route seemed clear in that moment. "I have no issue with you." He told her, drawing his arms back in just enough to slip into a more defensive position. "But I won't let you harm them."

Her lip curled up in a sneer and she was moving as well. Only, her position wasn't defensive – it was offensive. Her wings were lifted high in open threat. "You think that you get a choice?"

In that moment, the one thing happened that Spencer had been hoping beyond hope _wouldn't_ happen. He felt the presence of Sam coming closer and knew the other Winchester was coming to get him. Spencer wanted Sam nowhere near here. Only, it was too late. Even as he felt him, he saw the angel look over his shoulder and her grace lit up at the sight of one of the ones she'd come for.

"Spencer?" Sam's voice called out. There was an edge to it, one that told him that Sam could see more of this than he probably wanted him to.

Spencer didn't take his eyes off the angel in front of him. "Go back to the motel, Sam." He called back. _Please, Sam, go back to the motel!_

Of course, the idiot didn't listen to him. If anything he moved even quicker than before until he was almost up to Spencer. Then he surprised Spencer completely by calling out "Wait…Anna?"

A flicker of his eyes towards Sam, who was almost to his side now, showed clear recognition on his face as the hunter looked to the red-haired angel. So, Anna, was it? And someone that they knew apparently. That might've made Spencer relax if he couldn't still see the angel blade and clearly read the animosity in the way she held her wings. She meant Sam harm. Far more harm than he'd realized. It wasn't the Winchesters she was after – it was Sam. Everything in her body language, in her grace and her wings, made that very clear despite the way she smoothed out her vessel's face to try and appear calm. She wanted to hurt Sam. No, more than that. She wanted him _gone._ Spencer would've bet anything on it.

He flung his arm out just as Sam got close and used it to keep the hunter back. His eyes stayed on this Anna, though. "Sam." His voice was low and full of warning he wished he could believe the hunter would heed. "Go back to the motel."

"Anna's a friend, Spencer." Sam insisted.

Snorting, Spencer gently pushed Sam back. "She's no friend. You need to get out of here."

"Oh, he's not going anywhere. Neither of you are." Anna said firmly. Her grip on her blade shifted, became less threat and more intent.

She wasn't going to let this go. She was going to fight him in her efforts to get to Sam. Terror filled Spencer, just barely kept down. He couldn't afford to let it consume him. If she was going to come for him, for Sam, than he couldn't let anything get in the way of protecting them, not even his own fear. Drawing on everything he'd been taught, everything that seemed like it already existed inside of him, he kept his body loose and ready for whatever she would send his way. At the same time, he fell back on the one thing he'd always been good with – words. "Whatever you hope to accomplish here, it's not the way to go. Hurting those two won't change anything."

"It'll keep Lucifer from his true vessel." Anna said.

Behind him, Spencer felt Sam's twitch, felt the realization hit him as well as the sorrow and guilt and heartache. _Dammit_.

Anna moved a few steps to the right and Spencer moved as well, keeping Sam behind him the entire time despite how much he could feel the hunter hated that.

"We're not the bad guys here. We're working to stop the apocalypse." Sam said, unable to keep quiet. "Anna, please. We helped you. Please don't do this."

Spencer reached back with one hand, not touching him but gesturing for him to be quiet. Anything Sam said was going to be lost on her right now. He could see that. Not giving her a chance to respond to Sam's words, Spencer spoke up, his voice pitched low and even as if she were just another Unsub he needed to talk down. "There are things going on that you don't understand, things you aren't privy to. I don't know who sent you down here…"

"I came of my own choice." Anna interrupted him. "They say upstairs that the apocalypse is over, but while Lucifer walks the earth it cannot truly be over. Not while he still has the chance of getting to Sam. He'll pressure him and eventually Sam Winchester will say yes. Then Michael will be left with no choice – he'll have to fight."

It was sound logic. Spencer really couldn't fault that. But it didn't change anything. Not for him. Bracing his feet, Spencer drew in a shaky breath and blew it back out, pushing out his fears with it. "I won't let you have them." He repeated his earlier words. From his jacket he pulled out the angel blade that Gabriel had given him to carry. It wasn't the archangels, but he hadn't said where he'd gotten it from. He'd just pressed it on Spencer and told him to keep it until he could learn how to draw his own. It felt strangely cold and heavy in his palm. Then Spencer gathered up his grace. Running solely off his need, he focused it at Sam. A second later the hunter vanished and Spencer could only hope he'd managed to send him somewhere safe.

A snarl was the only warning he had before Anna leapt towards him.

What came next was one of the most difficult and terrifying fights that Spencer had ever been involved in. This wasn't the avoidance fighting that he'd done with Dean when they'd been testing him. It was like all those fights in high school and college, only so much more dangerous. Here, he didn't run the risk of going home with bruises and maybe a broken bone. Anna meant to kill him.

The first slash of an angel blade across his leg had him sucking in a sharp breath and dodging quickly away. The second tore open his shirt and made a line of fire across his side. She didn't give him time to recover. She leapt at him again and Spencer just barely managed to knock her off and send her flying into a tree. Spencer's mind was racing, trying to think of what to do, how to stop her without killing her, and that put him at a distinct disadvantage. She was out to kill and she had the experience to back it all up. In a flash she was on him again and Spencer was barely able to hold his own, barely even scratching at her, when she knocked him down to the ground. Spencer was struggling to get free, to get away from the blade that was coming closer and closer to him.

There was no way he was going to win against her. She had too much skill; a true warrior of Heaven. The fact that he was still alive was beyond amazing. Now – now his luck was running out and he knew he wasn't going to be able to force that blade away from him. Not without doing something that might kill her.

So Spencer did the only thing he could think of to do. Clutching tight at her wrist, fighting with everything he had, he shut out the world, stopped paying attention to their surroundings or his shields or anything at all, and he gathered up every last bit of his grace and reached out to wrap his light around hers.

The touch of grace to grace was something that had once terrified Spencer. There was still a hint of that now, the fear of what she could do to him with their lights touching, but he pushed those feelings to the side and dove in even deeper, delving right down into her grace. The gasp she gave was heard and ignored. Spencer focused solely on the damaged part of her grace that he'd seen before. This close he could see it was like a wound, broken and festering. Not just one, either, but countless ones, all of them radiating pain and fear and _hurtpainangerhatestopstopstop!_ in a blaze like a fire. They were like an infection, only of emotion and grace instead of something physical. They were dark and festering and Spencer's light reached out to them.

The first brush against them had Spencer's body choking on a scream that was only barely kept behind locked teeth. What had been done to her, the pain that had been caused to create this, to make her _this_ , screamed into him. The memories washed over him in wave after wave and he jerked back, both their eyes going wide as they stared at one another. Her hand was frozen, blade just inches from his skin.

Somewhere off to the side Spencer heard a voice shout loud and clear in the evening air, a furious cry of " _Anael!_ " That rang around them like thunder, loud and furious.

Neither one of them paid any attention to it. Spencer brought his free hand up, the one that wasn't holding her wrist, and he cupped her cheek. Then he dove back in.

Just like before, as soon as he touched that wound, the memories came screaming in, threatening to overpower him and making him feel so sick. Only this time he didn't pull away. This time he stayed there and, following his instincts, he pressed even closer. What he was doing, he didn't know. He trusted himself over to those instincts and pressed in even closer as the poison in her grace poured into his. Like lancing a boil, his grace sliced across hers, right across the damage, and all that _wrongness_ came pouring out of it. He saw her, strapped down to a table, screaming as the needles were shoved into her head, into her _grace_. He felt the pain as her wings were strapped down and her body held tight while things were done to her, things that ripped her and broke her and left her screaming, begging, _pleading_ to do anything, anything they said so long as they made it _stop_.

Spencer wrapped his light around hers and drew the darkness out bit by bit. He felt her shuddering. In a vague sense, he knew her body was pressing down on his now, the blade lying off somewhere to the side. Now that the weapon was gone he was free to bring his other hand up and cup her face with that one as well. He drew her face to his until their foreheads were pressing together. Every breath he drew in tasted dark and foul. The sickness was pouring off of her. Spencer's body shuddered under it, yet he didn't pull away because he could see, he could actually see it as it faded, little by little. Whatever he was doing, it was working.

With each new memory, Spencer rode it out with her, the both of them seeing it all. Him living it and her reliving it. Spencer held her through it all and took the pain of it onto himself. He'd stared this as a way to save himself. Now, he wouldn't stop until he'd saved her.

Slowly but surely the damage on her grace began to change, the frayed edges of it getting stronger and glowing brighter until, suddenly, it was helping as well. It was strong enough to do some of its own healing. Their graces twined together tighter and tighter as his light slowly chased away her dark. She fell against him more and he took on her weight as he took on her pain. _You are safe, sister,_ his grace whispered to her, and she opened to him, no longer fighting him at all. She sank into him and Spencer watched as the last of the dark faded away and her light shone bright and whole, any traces of that damage gone.

Opening his eyes, Spencer found himself staring up into a pair of hazel eyes just inches from his own. They were lit slightly by the grace that was glowing inside of the vessel and showed her joy clearer than anything else. "Thank you." She whispered to him, none of the earlier anger or mockery in her voice. "Thank you so much."

Spencer wanted to answer her – he really did. But the best he could manage was a small smile before his eyes rolled up in his head and he slipped down into unconsciousness.


	25. Between Hope and Destruction Part 12

Spencer woke to pain and an exhaustion that threatened to send him back under even as the ache inside pushed him back towards wakefulness. There was all this noise around him that took his brain a moment to process as _voices_. People were talking over top of him. No, not talking. Yelling. _Arguing_. Spencer fought to drag himself up out of the exhaustion and the rest of the way towards wakefulness. There was one voice in that mix, one that he knew he needed to respond to. One that resonated within him in a way that demanded his attention. Gabriel.

"I don't give a damn!" Gabriel was snarling at someone. His voice sounded close, just above Spencer, and he could not only hear the anger and fear in those words, he could feel it as well coming off his guardian in waves. "No one's going _anywhere_. Bitch at me about your precious car one more time, Winchester, I _dare you_. I'll break it to pieces and scatter them so far across the globe you'll never find all of them. You have no idea what's going on right now!"

"Only cause you won't tell us!" Dean shouted right back at him. "All I know is that Sam went to get Spencer and apparently things went to hell. Now you've got the Doc half dead and you're telling me Anna did it? _Anna_? She's our friend, dude!"

Another voice joined the mix and Spencer's sluggish brain dimly registered it as Castiel. "Dean, you must calm down and step back. Spencer is weakened and he is going to be Gabriel's only priority. Antagonizing him will do nothing. We should discuss this once we are all calm and we know that Spencer is all right."

It felt like Spencer's eyelids were being held down by lead weights. Forcing them open took way too much effort. What he found once he opened them wasn't quite what he expected. No one seemed to have noticed that he was awake yet and it gave him a second to take in his surroundings. The soft surface under him that he thought might be a couch, the wide room around them that looked entirely unfamiliar. It was obviously a living room in some house, one that he'd never been to before, but it definitely held Gabriel's touch to it. This had to be one of his other safe homes. More than that, though, Spencer's eyes focused on the people around him.

Gabriel stood in front of the couch and to Spencer's eyes his wings were open wide and very clearly out in protection of the young fledgling. It blocked most of his view of everyone else, though he could see Sam near the couch down by Spencer's feet. Between two wings he caught a faint glimpse of who he was pretty sure were Dean and Castiel, side by side as always. The seraph had one hand on Dean's arm as if to physically hold him back from Gabriel. But there was another presence, one Spencer's grace detected nearby – Anna. She was here with them and her grace was still bright. Still _whole_. That had him sighing in relief and relaxing just a bit into the couch.

That was enough to alert the furious archangel in front of him that Spencer was awake. In a flash Gabriel had spun around and dropped down to his knees right in front of Spencer's face. His wings stayed out and curled even more protectively over him until Spencer could see nothing beyond the shield of white and gold that encompassed him. "Spencer!" One of Gabriel's hands came up to push his hair back from his face and brush over his cheek. There was something in Gabriel's eyes that looked like fear warring with relief. "You little idiot. I should kick your ass for worrying me like that!"

Once, Spencer wouldn't have recognized the fear that fueled those words, or the emotion hidden underneath them. Now, he felt his lips curve ever so slightly and he let his eyes drift shut a little as he drew in the warmth of the hand on his face. "Gabriel." It was all he could get out at the moment, yet it was all he needed to say. Everything he felt fit neatly in that one single word.

He heard Gabriel huff out a breath he didn't need. When he spoke again, his voice was softer and lower, meant for his ears and his ears alone. "I got you, baby bird. You're safe here."

"I know." Spencer murmured. And he did know. He was here with Gabriel, after all.

Warm grace brushed over his, offering him strength and sharing so much more than any words could have. The purity of the emotion humbled Spencer as it always did and his exhaustion made it harder to hide his reaction to it. Embarrassment tinged Spencer's grace and he turned his face down into the couch a little to hide the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes. The only person who had ever loved him so wholly and so completely was his mother and it still left him in awe and disbelief to find that someone like Gabriel cared that deeply for him. That he loved Spencer far more than his actual father ever had or ever would.

"Oh, little bird." Gabriel's voice was so soft Spencer almost didn't hear it. Eyes closed, he didn't see Gabriel move forward, but he felt lips brush against his forehead and another pulse of grace, curling over his and cradling him. One of Gabriel's wings came down and Spencer became aware that his own wings were out, though they were insubstantial at the moment, drifting lightly and easily through the couch with only a tingle to mark that strangeness. Wing tangled with wing and a little more of his exhaustion and pain was eased away by the gentle touch.

A soft pulse of worry and question in the air reminded Spencer abruptly that they weren't alone. He drew in a shaky breath and knew that he needed to push this down, at least for now. Maybe later he could curl up in Gabriel and indulge himself in this childlike need that seemed to be crawling along his grace. For now he had to sit up and be an adult. There were undoubtedly questions that needed to be answered. He even had a few of his own. For that to happen, however, he was going to have to sit up.

Thankfully, with the way they were connected at the moment he didn't even have to ask Gabriel for help. With only a huff and a few small grumbles Gabriel moved and helped to brace Spencer so that he could shift into a sitting position. Then the archangel plopped himself up on the arm of the couch. It put him a bit above Spencer and allowed him to not only act as a support for Spencer to lean against, but also neatly kept Spencer tucked underneath Gabriel's left wings.

Sitting up allowed the fledgling to see the room in its entirety. He'd been right before – Dean and Castiel were standing side by side, a few feet away. There was worry on both their faces. Dean's was hidden underneath a layer of annoyance, which seemed to be his default setting when it came to Gabriel. Castiel's was right out in the open. Seeing it, Spencer offered them a small smile. "I'm okay." He said, a bit roughly. It wasn't entirely the truth but that was okay. They didn't need to know that.

Gabriel scoffed and slipped an arm around his shoulders to help hold him up.

For the moment, Spencer ignored the rest of it. He turned instead to look to the women who stood the furthest away from them. The one who stood against the far wall staring at them with so many warring expressions on her face and with her wings curled in tight against her back. One look was all it took for him to see that there was none of the damage left on her grace. Whatever he'd done, it had healed her. Really, truly healed her. Spencer's smile turned to one of relief. "You're okay." The words slipped out before he could think about them. He was just, he was so glad to see she was all right. Things were a bit hazy for him towards the end there.

Anna's lips curved into a smile that shook just slightly in a way that was more human gesture than angel. She pushed herself away from the wall and came forward, no one stopping her as she came right up to the couch. Then, to Spencer's utter amazement, she dropped down to her knees right in front of him and bowed her head low. Her two wings spread out loosely on either side of her and dipped in a way that Gabriel had taught him was meant as a sign of submission. "I owe you a great debt, brother, and I submit myself before you."

The only ones who didn't seem surprised by her actions were the other two angels. Dean and Sam were both staring openly and Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Get up, please. Please. I don't want anyone kneeling to me." That was the last thing he wanted.

Anna straightened up but she didn't rise off her knees. There was openness and earnestness on her face, no signs of the anger or disgust he could remember seeing there before. None of the pain or fear or anything. Just, open joy, like she couldn't quite get over the fact that she was alive – truly alive. It was a beautiful look on her. "There is no way I can repay you for what you've done for me. If ever you need anything, ask, and it will be yours."

"I didn't…" Spencer started to say, only to get cut off by a small squeeze from Gabriel. In his mind came a soft warning _Careful how you reply to this, little bird. A debt like this isn't something that can be brushed off lightly. Whether you feel it's earned or not,_ she _feels it. Sometimes that's what matters._

The smile that curved Anna's lips softened her features and turned her expression so much warmer. "You could've killed me and you would've been within your rights to do so. Instead, you saved me, and that's not a debt that can or should be ignored."

Her words echoed Gabriel's just enough to stop Spencer's protests. What would denying anything earn him? For the moment, he chose to just ignore that part of things. Let her think what she wanted. The rest of what she said had him shaking his head, though. Kill her? No, no. "No, I couldn't have." There was no way he could've killed her. Not without destroying a part of himself in the process.

"Nobody's going to be killing anyone." Dean interrupted them. His voice was harsh with the worry that he couldn't quite hide and the confusion that was obviously driving him crazy. He wasn't shouting anymore, though. That was a bonus. Though Spencer had a feeling he wasn't far from it. Neither Winchester was fond of being left in the dark and from the sounds of it, no one had bothered to tell them what exactly was going on. That was proved when Dean growled out "Is someone going to explain what exactly is going on here?"

It was Anna who answered him, though it wasn't to him that she directed her words. Her eyes lifted to Gabriel and there was a hint of awe there that Spencer could feel made the archangel uncomfortable. Then any sense of discomfort was lost under the shock and anger that boiled up in Gabriel at Anna's next words. Whatever had happened while Spencer was unconscious, it was apparent not everything had been revealed yet.

"Zachariah is furious that the apocalypse has been stopped." She told Gabriel, voice low and respectful, the tone of a soldier reporting to her superior. "He believes Michael's turned weak. That something broke him. And there is a small faction of angels that agree with him. After the Winchesters returned my grace and Castiel turned me in, I was put in Heaven's jail. Zachariah had me taken from there and put through…reconditioning."

Both she and Spencer shivered at that. Spencer felt no shame in pressing in just a bit closer to Gabriel. He could still clearly see Anna's memories from when he'd healed her; he could see the chair she'd been strapped to, feel the metal on her head, and the giant needles that had been forced inside. His finger slipped forward along his curled up leg to the closest of Gabriel's wings and he slipped his fingers between the feathers. In response, Gabriel pressed it closer, making it easier for him to hold on. Somewhere off to the side, Sam moved forward, stepping closer to his brother.

"Something went wrong, though." Anna continued on in the silent room. All eyes were on her as she told her story. "I fought too hard, or they weren't doing a good enough job. I don't know. Whatever it was, they couldn't change me, and instead it left my grace – damaged. I don't know how to describe it."

"It was like an infection." Spencer said. That was the best description for it. He could still see it, how it'd looked so wrong against the light of her grace, a light that had looked as if it were slowly getting dimmer with each passing moment as the infection spread. "Like something had sliced across it and left behind all these spaces that were full of infected emotion instead of infected tissue."

Anna nodded her head. "Yes, exactly. Once that happened, it became much easier to believe him when he said that so long as Sam Winchester lived, the apocalypse was still a huge risk. He told me that Lucifer would convince Sam to say yes and that Michael would then be forced to fight whether he liked it or not. He was insistent that taking out Sam was the only way to save everything."

Back behind her, Dean took a step to the side, closing the last bit of distance between him and his brother. The protective gesture made Spencer want to smile. He might've, if the situation wasn't so serious. Instead, he kept his face calm and watched Anna as she finished her story.

"When Zachariah set me free, it took me a while to find the Winchesters. I was there tonight on a rumor, really. I didn't expect to find them. I never expected to find what appeared to be a nephilim stationed nearby, guarding them. I tried to take him out, only he didn't fight me. He tried to talk me down first and then he…he healed me."

A quiver ran through Gabriel's wing, the only outward sign of the emotion that Spencer could feel coming off him. He was too tired to try and place what exactly it was. He just knew it wasn't happy and it was directed slightly at him. The fledgling didn't think too much about his next action. He pushed one of his wings up against Gabriel's and rubbed his cheek a bit against the archangel's side.

He felt Gabriel's wings shiver again and then heard the archangel sigh. "Don't think you're getting off that easy, kiddo." He grumbled. Still, he curled his bottom wing in, actually slipping it somewhat _under_ Spencer and using it to draw him in the tiniest bit closer. "You are beyond in trouble with me right now."

Yeah, he'd kind of thought he might be. He'd had a feeling Gabriel wouldn't be too pleased that he hadn't called for him. Spencer hadn't planned on lying about things, per se, but he _had_ planned on explaining it all to Gabriel later in a way that might've kept him out of trouble with his guardian. If only Anna hadn't insisted on such a thorough report. Well, it was too late now. Chewing on the inside of his lip, Spencer tilted his head just enough to peek up through his bangs. "How'd you know what was going on?" The words were just a bit heavy with his exhaustion but they were clear and that was what mattered.

The look Gabriel gave him said clearly he knew why that was being asked. "Might've had something to do with a sasquatch showing up at my table when I was having lunch with a friend – in a pub in Ireland."

"Oh." Spencer was surprised for a second. Then he gave a small shrug and looked over to Sam. "Sorry. I was just thinking about getting you somewhere safe. I should've thought a little clearer about _where_ that would send you."

Sam's smile was the easiest one in the room. It didn't hold any anger or anything else. Just relief and happiness at seeing Spencer sitting there okay. He'd been worried, Spencer could see it almost shouting from his mind, but now he was beyond relieved to see Spencer sitting up and talking. "It's all right, Spencer. Gabe brought me back to the motel right away."

"Deano had already called Cassie." Gabriel continued on. "And we went out together to find you. After your little stunt – which sent up a beacon of grace I was only partially able to mask, thank you very much – I snapped us all the hell out of there and to a safe house before anything could decide to come and investigate what was using that much grace. I couldn't hide it completely, but no one should be able to tell who the power came from. I would've been able to do more if, y'know, I'd known in enough time what was going on."

Spencer hunched down a little in his seat. "Sorry."

There was another huff of breath above him. Firm fingers reached in and caught hold of Spencer's chin and tilted his head up until he was forced to look at Gabriel's face. There was a light in those amber eyes that made them glow slightly, as well as an emotion that left Spencer pinned in place. He stared up, feeling very clearly in that moment the difference in age between them. Their relationship of guardian and fledgling had never seemed as clear before as it was in that moment while Gabriel stared down at him. "Let me make something absolutely clear here, Spencer." Gabriel said, his voice low and stern. "You get into something like that again and don't call me, when I get my hands on you I swear to you that you'll be sitting tender."

It took just a second for those words to sink in. When they did, Spencer felt his eyes widen. "Did you just threaten to _spank_ me?" he asked incredulously. He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. There was no doubt just how Gabriel saw him. In angelic terms, he was still considered very much a child. But…really? Really?

Gabriel arched both eyebrows and his usual amused look was replaced with one much more serious. "I don't make threats."

A little shiver ran down Spencer's spine. Not a serious kind of fear; very much the fear of a child who knew they'd stepped out of line with their parent and knew they weren't going to be allowed to get away with it. Neither of his parents had ever spanked him. Despite what people thought of William Reid – and Spencer knew he didn't exactly help the images people have of that man – he hadn't physically hurt Spencer. Like his child, physical violence had never been his thing. Words had always been much more effective.

To have Gabriel actually threaten to spank him, and to know that the archangel would go through with it… Spencer swallowed down the little lump in his throat and nodded while very pointedly ignoring their audience.

Satisfied his message was understood, Gabriel let go of his chin.

"Can we maybe stow the domestic crap and get back on topic here?" Dean asked dryly.

Spencer shot him a small look of gratitude and caught the hint of a wink from the older Winchester that told him Dean's mock-rude interruption had very much been deliberate. Either Sam was right and Dean really was starting to like him, or years of being an older brother and drawing attention away from younger ones when they were in trouble were just too ingrained in Dean for him to ignore it, even if the younger one wasn't actually _his_ brother. Whatever it was, Spencer was grateful as the hunter drew the topic, and all the uncomfortable attention, away from him.

"Zachariah needs to be dealt with." Castiel said. His deep voice was low, yet still drew everyone's attention. Though he leaned just slightly closer to Dean, his eyes shifted to Gabriel. "If he is gathering power to himself, Michael needs to be informed." His eyes shifted towards the woman still kneeling before the couch and then back up to Gabriel. It was clear he'd just remembered that they had one extra guest here with them. "Perhaps we should wait until certain matters are dealt with before we continue this, brother."

Until certain matters are dealt with…? Spencer looked down at Anna and then back up at Castiel. His gaze narrowed slightly on the seraph. "Dealt with?" The words slipped out before he could stop them. "How would you see matters 'dealt with', Castiel?"

Though the seraph's wings flinched ever so slightly, he met Spencer's gaze without hesitance. "While you may have saved her, Spencer, we cannot be sure there is nothing of the compulsion and darkness left inside of her. Not without checking. We cannot risk having a spy in our midst, however reluctant a one it may be. This is far too important to leave things to chance."

Spencer drew his fingers out of Gabriel's wing before he could curl them in and unintentionally cause any discomfort. Despite how tired he was, he straightened his body up, drawing himself upright. Temper that he didn't often allow was curling in his stomach. "There is nothing left in there." He said firmly. Though he didn't know it, a hint of power flashed in his eyes. "I wrapped myself up in her grace. There is _nothing_ left there."

"I'm sure you're right." Castiel said simply. "But Zachariah is far older and far more devious than you. There are tricks he knows that you wouldn't even begin to guess at. We need to be sure, Spencer."

"So, what? Are you going to lock her up too?"

The room went silent. Spencer's words seemed to echo strangely around him and he almost flinched back from the harshness of them. He _did_ flinch back from the stunned look on Castiel's face and the wounded way he drew his wings back. A sick feeling built in Spencer's stomach. Temper washed away underneath a wave of regret. If he'd had the strength, he would've been on his feet already. As it was he could only sit there and offer a low, "I'm sorry." Closing his eyes, he blew out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Castiel. That was harsh and uncalled for."

"Not entirely uncalled for." Castiel said lowly, honestly. "I hurt you."

There was no point in denying it. Everyone here knew the truth. Well, everyone except Anna. But the rest of them knew and denying it would do nothing. So Spencer settled for nodding. "Yes. But you're making up for it. And I'm not one to hold a grudge, especially when someone's working to rectify their past mistakes. You've changed. You're still changing. I won't hold the things you did against you." Pausing, he hesitated for just a second and then lifted his chin just a little. "Just like I won't hold the things Anna did against her. What we're doing is hard enough. We can't afford to second guess and fight with one another. We have to work as a team. Otherwise, we're doomed before we've started."

"Well said, Sparrow." Gabriel murmured proudly. Then, louder, "I let Mike and Raf know we needed them. They should be here any minute and we'll figure out what to do with Zachariah."

A shiver ran down Spencer's spine at the threat he heard in Gabriel's voice. While he couldn't deny that Zachariah definitely had it coming, that didn't mean that he wanted to sit here and be a part of the planning for it. Planning how to hurt or punish someone – or plotting how to kill them, which he had a feeling might be a major part of this conversation – wasn't something that he thought he could do. It wasn't in him to hurt people, not really. Not unless he had to. Hunting monsters or Horsemen or even tracking down the Devil, that was one thing. Plotting against an angel, one who should be on the side of good… it twisted his stomach in ways he couldn't quite explain. It made him feel weak, yet not even that was enough to stop him from forcing himself to pull away from Gabriel a little and sit up.

The way that Gabriel looked at him said he'd heard the stream of Spencer's thoughts. He wasn't judging him, though. He wasn't criticizing him or mocking him or telling him to 'man up'. Instead, he brushed Spencer's hair back from his face and smiled at him. "Why don't you go ahead and go work on your map for Famine, Sparrow? I checked out those places you asked me to." He snapped his fingers and Spencer saw something move across the room. Looking over, he saw his papers and notes spread out on the kitchen table and a board with a map pinned up now standing beside the table. "I took out the marks that weren't Famine and left up the ones that were. I hope it helps with… whatever you're doing."

Spencer's face lit up with gratitude. This, he could do. This, he could work on. Profiling was much easier and much more comfortable for him. "Thanks, Gabriel."

"Absolutely."

It only took a little bit of work for Spencer to get himself up off the couch. Anna rose with him and helped to brace his arm, much to his embarrassment. Even with the grace that Gabriel pushed towards him, his energy was still low enough that he wobbled a little once he was on his feet. The way that Anna stood with him made it clear she was more than willing to help him across the room. Spencer was kind of embarrassed to admit he might need it.

He had something else in mind, though. Something that he really thought he needed to do. It went along with his earlier thoughts, back before this whole fiasco had started, and the thoughts that had just cropped up.

Spencer pulled his arm free from Anna's grip, smiling at her to let her know he was fine. Then he made his way towards the table – with one small detour.

Everyone was watching as Spencer stopped at Castiel's side. He looked at the seraph for a moment and there was just a small amount of hesitance inside of him. That washed away as he looked into the blue eyes of Castiel's vessel and clearly saw the worry and guilt hidden in the grace inside. Decision made, Spencer put his hands into his pockets and smiled, shy and hesitant. "I, um, I've heard from Gabriel that you're a, well, one of the best warriors in your garrison. If you…if you don't mind, I'd love to get your input on some things, from a battle perspective. I think I've got enough understanding to predict behavior, but it would be a lot easier if I could have someone to help who's well versed in the tactical side of things."

This was an olive branch, the best that Spencer could do, and he could see the hidden joy in Castiel's eyes that said he recognized it for what it was. "I would be honored."

Neither one saw the look of pride on Gabriel's face or the gratitude that flashed over Dean's.

Together, the two made their way over towards the dining table. And if Spencer stumbled a little on the way, and if Castiel caught his arm and helped to brace him, no one commented on it.

* * *

It wasn't much later that the other archangels arrived. Spencer was even more grateful that Gabriel had set this up for him when he saw them all huddling together over there, the emotions getting high within minutes of their arrival. Gabriel, Sam and Dean were on the couch, with Michael and Raphael on a love seat that Gabriel snapped up, and Anna had taken an armchair. It amused Spencer to see that Sam and Gabriel had their fingers laced together between them. That kiss really had been the start of something. Or, maybe the culmination of something. Maybe both.

Spencer didn't stay focused on them for long. He may have asked Castiel over here as a sort of olive branch, but he quickly found out that it had actually been a really smart move. The seraph had a brilliant mind and was an astounding tactician. He was able to dismiss a few theories that Spencer had about Lucifer and the Horsemen, simply on the basis of being poor tactical maneuvers, and between them they started to narrow down a few things.

When Spencer stumbled for about the fourth time going from table to map, a seat appeared by him. It was tall and on wheels, with arms and a back on it so he wouldn't slip down. Perfect for sitting there in front of the map and still decent enough to be used at the table. Spencer cast a look over at Gabriel, who just winked before diving back into conversation with the others.

They had quite a few points on the map now that were confirmed locations Famine had been. They almost looked hectic at first, especially once he dated each one and charted them with a bit of string from tack to tack over the map. Yet, there was a feel to them, something that Spencer could _almost_ see.

"They appear random." Castiel said, his voice an echo of Spencer's thoughts. He stood beside him, looking over the map as well. "Yet, in that randomness, I almost feel as if there is… something."

Spencer nodded absently. "I thought at first that it _was_ random. I mean, it had all appearances of simple chaos. Going where they want, doing what they want with no real plan. But it's more than that. Look at how these lines here travel." Reaching up, he traced a finger over one part of the string and followed it along a few of the map points.

"It's like he is, circling."

Circling something… Spencer's brain took that thought and ran with it. Could it be – wait, there! Leaning in, Spencer's eyes ran quickly over the lines, following each one. "Yes, yes. That's exactly it, Castiel. Circling. Did they…? It's like they wanted to be followed. Wanted to be found. But they couldn't make it too easy."

"That would be suspicious."

"Exactly. If it was too easy, the boys would suspect a trap."

The two shared a look of understanding and realization. Famine wanted to be found. And that meant that Spencer and Dean were most likely right – he most likely wanted Sam. Wanted to drug him, control him, so that Lucifer could control him. He was leading them to a specific place for an ambush. Spencer looked back at the map with new understanding and it only took a moment for him to reach up and press a pin into the map. "Here. They're circling here. This is where they're going to end up being next."

The small smile that Castiel wore was the same as any other person beaming at him. Spencer very deliberately looked away and denied the warm feeling it gave him. "This is quite a skill you have, Spencer." Castiel complimented him. His voice was open and sincere, not a hint of anything to it that would indicate he was just humoring Spencer.

A blush heated Spencer's cheeks. "It's just profiling. Dealing with facts. I've always, ah, always been good at puzzles." He didn't give Castiel a chance to say anything else. Embarrassed enough as it was, he tried to move the conversation along. "We know where he's going to be. Now we just need to figure out _when_. If we get there before him, we might be able to set up a trap of our own. I don't like the idea of just waiting, letting him cause damage as he comes to us, but…"

"But we stand a better chance if we are in a location we can prepare." Castiel finished the thought for him. "The trick will be hiding ourselves so that they do not know we are there. I'm unsure as to whether or not even Michael would be able to do so."

Spencer chewed on his lip and ran through a list of spells and sigils and such inside of his head. There had to be something there that he could use. He thought that maybe…maybe…in the book on protective runes? Hadn't there been something in there about staying hidden? About 'blinding the eye to sight' or some such like that? The words had been formal and the language one he and Bobby hadn't been entirely familiar with. He'd planned on asking Gabriel, but they hadn't gotten around to it.

A snap of his fingers brought the book from where he knew it had been sitting on the shelf near his 'reading chair' back at the beach house. Spencer took a second to page through it, brows furrowed as he found the section that he wanted. He tilted the book towards Castiel, leaning in without even thinking about it. "Do you think this might help?"

Castiel didn't hesitate to lean in and look at the words on the page. His eyes studied the runes there as well as the words that went with them. "It might." He finally said. "I cannot be sure. I haven't seen the like before."

Hmm. Spencer tilted his head an studied the page. He was half lost in thought, trying to figure all of this out, his mind racing with everything. When he heard a pause in the conversation across the room, he took a chance and called out to the one who might be able to help, all the while still reading over the words in front of him. It made his voice just a bit absent as he called out "Hey _ol'alihm_ , do you have a moment?"

Across the room everyone went silent. Spencer didn't notice it at first, too caught up in the puzzle in front of him. He didn't realize how silent everyone was, or how still the angels had gone. Beside him, Castiel was frozen, his vessel's eyes wide. It was the surprise that was ruling off of him that finally had Spencer's head coming up from the book. He looked at the seraph with confusion, not quite understanding what was so odd about his question. Didn't it make sense to ask Gabriel for help?

Gabriel cleared his throat and pushed up off the couch. "Yeah, little bird. What's up?" There was a look on his face that Spencer couldn't quite place, something deep in his eyes, but there was also love and warmth, both of which told him that whatever was going on wasn't _bad_. Apparently it was just another situation where he'd missed something. Maybe some sort of social thing that he never quite understood.

He shrugged it off as Gabriel came over to him. If it was something he needed to know right now, he trusted Gabriel to tell him. But Gabriel wasn't commenting on it so it had to be something that really wasn't that important. Spencer made a mental note to ask him later, when they weren't dealing with anything, and then turned his focus back to the book in front of him. He felt it as Gabriel came up beside him and a hand settled on his back between his wings just before the archangel leaned ins to take a look at where Spencer was now pointing. "Can you help me with this?" Spencer asked, not bothering to look up at him. He felt Gabriel press up against his back and his head dropped to rest against Spencer's shoulder. It just had the fledgling rolling his eyes. "Castiel and I were thinking that this might be effective in hiding us from the Horsemen if we were close. What do you think?"

"Hm. You might be onto something here."

Lost in the puzzle in front of him, Spencer missed the looks the two got, or the way that Castiel moved away from them. He leaned and Gabriel leaned over the table together and drew in a few fresh sheets of paper as they began to plot out the best way to keep themselves hidden.

* * *

Across the room, the hunters were watching the pair of them. Sam had seen the way that Gabriel practically lit up when Spencer called out to him. At first, Sam hadn't even realized it was Gabriel that Spencer was calling to. The word he'd called him, _ol'alihm_ , wasn't one that he'd ever heard before. Apparently it was one that the angels knew, though. Every angel had reacted to it with surprise, while Gabriel had looked stunned and…had that been awe on his face? Love, definitely.

Dean turned to look at them and carefully lowered his voice to ask "Okay, what was that about? Doc called him some weird name and you guys all started acting weird."

It took effort for Sam not to roll his eyes or throw something at his brother. While Michael and Raphael might magically be on their side somehow, antagonizing them wasn't a smart idea. Maybe Dean was spending too much time around Gabriel. He was starting to get snarkier with the archangels and that didn't really seem like a good thing.

Michael twitched like someone had poked him and then he drew himself up almost perfectly straight in his seat. His face was thunderous. "It was not a _weird name_." The archangel said firmly, though he still kept his voice low and private, his words for them and not those across the room. His tone made it clear just how offended he was by even the suggestion of that. "It was…an honor. An amazing honor. One that you will not belittle, Dean Winchester."

"One he isn't aware of." Castiel chimed in as he joined them, defending Dean as always. He and Michael shared a look and something seemed to pass between them that, surprisingly, soothed the archangel. At the least, he stood down while Castiel turned to the Winchesters to explain. "The word that Spencer spoke was Enochian. It was one that he shouldn't have known, which makes it all the more meaningful because it was instinctive. _Ol'alihm_ is a title that has rarely ever been used. It's…"

"There are not English words to describe it." Michael cut in. This time, his voice was gentler, with just a hint of something that Sam would almost saw was…awe? A faint smile ghosted over his lips. "It's only given to one you love and trust more than any other being. One who is father, brother, friend, caretaker. It is love and respect and grace, in the truest form that one can give to another, and it's so much more. More than your human minds can even begin to understand. It is a title second only to our Father."

"Damn." Dean breathed out. He shot a look over at the two by the table. Spencer was sitting down now, drawing on something, and Gabriel had a hand on the back of his neck while he bent over him, grinning and gesturing towards the paper.

Sam felt a smile soften his features. Those two were getting closer and closer with each passing day. This only went to prove what Sam already knew. Anyone with eyes could see how much Spencer trusted Gabriel. How much he cared for him. And how much Gabriel cared in return. They had a bond closer than any father and son that Sam had ever seen. Gabriel cared for Spencer in ways that Sam hadn't know the trickster was capable of. It was one of the things that had started to soften him towards Gabriel. That had helped put them on the road to…to whatever it was they were now. The kiss they'd shared burned briefly in the back of his mind.

Across the room, amber eyes lifted and briefly met Sam's. Then, with a smirk on his lips, Gabriel winked at him.

Sam couldn't help his own grin. Whatever they were, he had no idea. But he had a feeling he was going to have fun finding out.


	26. Between Hope and Destruction Part 13

_Sorry this took me so long. I've been a bit more paranoid than normal lately. I've gotten a few comments about how I need to learn to show and not tell in my stories (which I totally do need to learn LoL) and it made me a bit paranoid as I wrote. Especially when I looked back at how long it's taken me just to get here. Whoops. O.o Hopefully you guys like this chapter, though!_

* * *

The house was quiet by the time Gabriel got back. He and his brothers had left earlier to try and find Zachariah and deal with him, only the smarmy little dick had somehow managed to hide himself out somewhere and they couldn't find him. It left Gabriel with a nasty feeling in his grace and the need to be back with his family. He'd said as much and hadn't missed the pang from both his brothers at hearing him speak of a family that wasn't them.

They were still his family – they would never _stop_ being his family, no matter how angry they made him. But Gabriel had made a life for himself down here on earth. He had other families now. And this one, here, was small, but it was special. Castiel, Dean, Sam, Spencer.

A smile touched Gabriel's lips as he saw one member of that family sound asleep on the couch. Apparently Spencer hadn't gone to find a room to sleep in. No real surprise. It looked sort of like he'd crashed where he'd been reading. There was a book folded neatly by him and someone had tossed a blanket over him. Gabriel took a moment to lightly brush some of the fledgling's hair back off his face. His hair was getting long.

It warmed him to see the way that Spencer turned in towards his touch. The kid looked so much younger while he was sleeping. Gabriel stood there for a long moment and just looked down at Spencer's face, so soft and sweet in sleep. So damn young. And so, so important. Not because of what he was doing here with the apocalypse or because of what waited in his future. He was important to Gabriel simply because he was _him_.

Gabriel wanted to keep him safe, yet Spencer seemed content to throw himself head first into everything. What was worse was that there was no reason whatsoever for Gabriel to draw him back. Spencer didn't give him any reason. He was too damn smart and too useful. The breakthrough that Spencer had made in tracking Famine was absolutely amazing and he swore that he could do the same with Pestilence with just a little bit of time. That it would, in fact, be easier because he had all the illnesses to follow and track. Gabriel felt an amazing amount of pride over his fledgling's accomplishments even as he worried more.

Smothering a sigh, the archangel shook his head and pushed away from the couch.

He made his way out to the front porch of the house. Out here it was a little easier to relax and think. Plus it was easier to sit out here while he checked over the wards. He made his way to the porch railing and climbed up on the corner, leaning his back against the post that connected the railing to the roof. His right leg dangled in while he drew his left leg up and let his bare foot rest on the railing as well. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back until it rested against the post and he opened himself up to the wards that he had over this place and began to check them, reinforcing them where he felt they needed it.

He was still sitting there when he felt someone coming his direction. When he felt who it was, he smiled inside.

There was no real surprise when there was the sound of the door opening. Only a second later Sam's warm, easy voice filled the night air. "Is this a private party or can anyone interrupt?"

Gabriel was already smiling even before he'd fully looked up. The sight that met him only made his smile grow even more. Sam was leaning against the doorframe, looking like he'd just rolled right out of bed. It put delicious images in Gabriel's mind that turned his smile into more of a smirk. "For you, Princess? Always."

The kid chuckled at the nickname, yet didn't protest it. He pushed off the doorframe and made his way over to the edge of the porch where Gabriel was perched. He came right up to him and leaned against the support beam nearest Gabriel's feet, giving himself a place to rest while also leaving him comfortable and close enough to turn and smile over at the archangel. "It's a beautiful view."

"Of course." Gabriel didn't bother looking out at the forest around him. Far as he was concerned, the best view was the adorable dimpled smile that was flashed his way. "Go figure, hm?" Sam teased him lightly. "I suppose if you can just snap up a home, why bother snapping it up somewhere ugly?"

"What can I say, kiddo?" He let his eyes run down Sam's body, nicely showcased in those sleep pants and thin t-shirt, and then back up to his face so he could wink at him. "I like pretty things."

The blush that stained his cheeks was just a bit too adorable to really be fair. It was cute to watch this giant puppy of a man flush under the simplest compliments. He liked even more that he was the one here to give them to him. It was just one of thousand other things he wanted to be able to give him.

Gabriel's smile softened a little without him realizing it. Even his voice gentled a bit as he pointed out "You're up late, Samsquatch."

Sam shrugged, giving Gabriel one of those half-smiles of his. "Not that tired. Couldn't really stop thinking."

There was just a hint of something in his voice that had Gabriel tilting his head. Then a smile spread over his lips. "Aww, Sammy, were you worried about me?"

"Of course."

The immediate reply threw Gabriel off just slightly. He hadn't expected Sam to actually admit to it. He couldn't deny how it made him feel to hear it, though. When was the last time he'd had someone worry about him? Honestly worry about him because they cared, not because of any other ulterior motives? It was nice. Strange, but nice. "I'm all right, Princess. We didn't really get a chance to do much. Looks like Zachariah decided to do a bit of a runner. We'll find him, though. He can't hide from us. An we won't let him get to you guys."

"I know you won't. Is there anything we can do to help?"

It didn't escape Gabriel's notice that Sam said 'you', not 'you guys' or anything like that. He was putting his trust in Gabriel and that was scary and wonderful and amazing. Part of Gabriel wanted to tell him not to. To not be stupid. Why would someone trust him? He was the runaway – the screw up. Gabriel shoved those thoughts down and shook his head. "Nope. Just, stay safe. One of us will watch over you guys at all times. If we aren't there, you'll still have Cas or Spence. They'll keep an eye on you guys, too."

"We don't need babysitters." Sam said dryly.

Gabriel flashed him a grin. "Humor me."

The hunter rolled his eyes, but he didn't argue it. He just turned his attention out towards the forest and stared out at it. A quiet fell between them that wasn't strange or strained or uncomfortable. Gabriel didn't feel the need to fill it with pointless conversation or any sort of noise whatsoever. He was content to just sit there, feeling the power in the air around him, feeling the net of safety woven over his little family here, and watch Sam as the hunter watched the forest. He let himself look his fill. He'd watched over Sam plenty of times, had studied him often, yet he would never get tired of it. The man was far too handsome for his own good.

When Sam turned and caught him staring, he flushed a little but he smiled. Then he surprised Gabriel by pushing off the post and making his way over to him. The railing that Gabriel was sitting on put him a little higher than normal. Not much, but enough to make the height difference between them not so drastic. Gabriel liked it, though. He really liked that difference in height. Who wouldn't? There was just something about the idea of being wrapped up in this giant moose of a man that made him shiver ever so slightly.

There was something on Sam's face that was just a bit hesitant. Like he wasn't quite sure if this was okay or allowed. Gabriel solved that problem by opening up his one arm and holding it out. Sam perked up almost instantly and moved right up to his side. Gabriel's arm slid around his waist and he tugged the man in until they were pressed together. It was the easiest thing in the world to tilt his head up in silent appeal for a kiss that he usually would've just taken. There was just something about the peaceful stillness in the air around them that asked for something a bit gentler.

It was well worth it. When Sam's lips brushed over his, they were soft yet sure, and oh so delicious. The two traded gentle kisses for who knew how long. Gabriel lost track of it. For this moment, he wanted nothing else except this man who he was holding close and who was cradling his head like he was holding something so, so precious.

When they broke apart, Gabriel kept his arm around Sam's waist and ended up resting his head against his shoulder. In return, Sam's arm went around Gabriel's shoulders. Together, they stood there and watched as the sun slowly started to come up on the far horizon.

* * *

The sound of his cell phone ringing woke Spencer from his sleep. It was buried down in the pocket of the pants he'd fallen asleep in and he had to fight against the blankets to get to it. Finally he found the annoying ringing, vibrating, _stupid_ thing and he yanked it out of his pocket. Flipping it open, he dropped it over his ear, too sleepy to actually hold it. "Mm. Dr. Reid."

There was a brief moment of quiet before Derek's voice came over the line. " _Dude, where are you? Don't tell me you're still asleep! I've been sitting outside for five minutes. Everyone's waiting for us at the jet_!"

Spencer swore low and long in Latin as he shoved at the blankets cocooning him. They wrapped around his arms and legs and almost sent him crashing to the ground before he managed to throw them off. Eyes half open, phone cradled now between face and shoulder, he rubbed one hand over his face and was reaching the other hand out for the shoes he knew would be nearby. He had it yanked on and was almost done tying it before his eyes finally opened just enough to actually see around him. When he did, he froze.

Michael, Gabriel, Dean, Sam, Castiel, Anna, and even Raphael were all sitting there staring at him with varying looks of confusion or amusement.

This wasn't his apartment. He hadn't fallen asleep on his couch.

Derek Morgan was an asshole.

Spencer told him exactly that, followed up with "I hate you."

The laughter that bubbled down the line was probably enough for the others to hear. " _You're so easy, kid! I swear_!"

Yanking off his shoe, Spencer dropped it back down beside the other one and slumped a little back into the couch. "I hate you." He repeated flatly. "You are an ass and I cannot understand why on earth I ever agreed to be friends with you." Across the room he could see Sam smothering a smile and both Dean and Gabriel openly chuckling at him. Michael watched him in that strange, just slightly creepy way of his, a hint of a smile touching his lips, and Raphael looked a bit lost. Anna just shook her head, though Spencer saw a smile on her lips as well. A blush stained Spencer's cheeks and he let his eyes fall closed.

 _"We're friends cause I'm awesome and you know it."_ Derek said cheerfully.

"Or maybe because I pity you in your fragile mental state." Spencer shot back. Being woken up always set off the snarky side of him that Derek said was his favorite. He liked a bickering Spencer.

Proving that, Derek laughed again. " _Good to know I can always count on you._ "

"Was there a purpose for this call or were you simply looking to inflict your presence on me for punishment of some perceived crime I've committed in the past?"

" _Ouch_!" Derek cried out mockingly. In his mind's eye, Spencer could see the hand he'd lay over his heart and the pretend offended look he'd wear. " _Dr. Reid, you're positively asshole-ish this morning._ "

Rubbing a hand over his face, Spencer tried to ignore the sniggers nearby. "That's not actually a word, Morgan. Or an answer." It was almost like he was stalling. The instant he had that thought, Spencer found himself sitting up a little straighter. If he hadn't been mostly asleep before he would've realized it sooner. Derek _was_ stalling. Something was going on. Something serious. "Morgan. What happened?"

" _Reid_ …" Derek paused and sighed.

The eyes in the room felt like a little too much in that moment and Spencer pushed himself up off the couch. He went in the opposite direction, his back to them, and focused instead on the windows at the far end of the room. "Morgan. _What happened_?"

There was another sigh and then three words that ripped straight through Spencer. " _Frank came back._ "

A chill ran down Spencer's body and he stumbled slightly. One of his hands shot out to catch against the wall and brace himself. Suddenly uncaring of the eyes he knew had to be watching him, he pressed his hand against the wall and stared blindly in front of him. "What?"

In short, simple terms, Derek laid out the whole horrifying story for him. " _Jane left him and came to find Gideon, but she didn't get here fast enough. Frank got here first and he…an old friend of Gideon's was at his apartment when Frank got there. He left her as a message_."

Oh, God. Spencer curled his fingers against the wall, not even noticing as they dug into the plaster.

" _We found Gideon and we tracked Frank down but he, he took a few pages from Gideon's book while he was there. His survivors. We weren't fast enough to save all of them but we saved the last one he had. And Frank's done. He and Jane jumped in front of a moving train rather than be taken in. He's done. There's no coming back. I just… I would've called you sooner, but we were moving fast. I felt you needed to know, though. You had the right to know._ " Another soft sigh. " _The others thought we should wait to tell you. I knew you'd be pissed if we did, though. You deserve to know._ "

"Gideon?" That was the only word Spencer could get out past the lump in his throat.

Luckily, Derek knew him well and he knew what he was asking. " _He's on leave right now. I'm not sure how long. I don't know where he went, either. He wasn't going to, but Hotch made him take the time. We'll see if he actually does._ "

Spencer curled his fingers tighter and leaned forward to press his forehead against the wall. Inside, he was screaming, everything in him wanting to be in two places at once. He wanted to be there but he knew he needed to be here. Both places needed him and it ripped at his insides until he thought he might be sick. "I...Morgan, I just…"

" _Hey_ ," Derek cut in gently. " _Breathe, kid. Just breathe. I didn't call to tell you because I wanted you to come rushing back home. Trust me, we all get that you've got your own shit going on right now and I'm not trying to make you feel like you need to leave that behind to come and deal with this._ "

"I should be there."

" _You should be exactly where you are. Gideon – kid, you know him. He's not gonna want anyone around right now. Even if you were here, there wouldn't be anything you could do for him. You stay where you are with your family and your own stuff. I just, wanted you to know what was going on. You deserved to know what was going on._ "

The rest of the conversation was sort of a blur for Spencer. He knew he promised to call Derek at some point in there. Whatever else he said or was said to him, he had no idea. It wasn't until he'd carefully folded his phone once more and put it in his pocket that he finally seemed to snap out the daze that had fallen over him. A deep, slightly shuddery breath helped him claw back control over the grace he could feel buzzing against his skin. His light wanted to spread out in an echo of what he was feeling inside. Years of suppressing his own emotions had him yanking it all down underneath a tight control. By the time he turned back to face the room once more, his face was calm and composed. No one would buy it, he knew. They'd been watching him much too closely for that. It didn't mean that he had to give them anything, though. This was his pain. His grief. It was none of their damn business.

Spencer's spine was straight when he made his way back over to them. It was a mask the likes of which he hadn't put on since early on with the boys but it was one he'd worn enough in his that he could maintain it fairly easily. Even his voice was normal and in control. "Are you guys finalizing plans to go after Famine? Or has something else cropped up while I was sleeping?"

"Spencer," Sam said lowly, almost hesitantly.

"No." Spencer cut in. One word, hard and firm. That was all he gave them. It was enough to make it clear, though. This wasn't something he was going to talk about.

It almost looked like the angels – minus Gabriel – weren't going to give it up so easily. Spencer could see the worry on Anna and Castiel and he saw the way Michael straightened up, eyebrows furrowed, and how one of his white wings moved as if to reach out for him. Spencer immediately shifted his course a little to the right and ended up standing by Dean and Sam. The older Winchester must've taken that as some sort of signal. He shifted his weight right when Spencer got to them and nudged him discreetly until he was standing right by the table with them, Sam on one side and Dean on the other. "We're ironing out plans and divvying up responsibilities." Dean told him. With a thumb he gestured over towards Michael and Raphael, who stood side by side at the other end of the table. "The archs over there are gonna go after Zach, it seems, which leaves the rest of us going after Famine."

"I'll be going with them to act as bait for Zachariah." Anna added in.

Spencer nodded. That made sense.

"I'll be traveling with you." Castiel said from the other side of Dean. "As will Gabriel. We will offer whatever angelic protection we can against Famine. It neatly splits our forces and ensures us the highest chance of safety."

Again, it made sense. Spencer nodded agreeably. However, much as he was trying to focus on this, it was apparent that not everyone was so willing to let go of what had been going on earlier. Michael hadn't stopped staring at him. As soon as Castiel was finished speaking, the oldest archangel called out Spencer's name, worry and demand both easy to hear in his voice.

Spencer ignored it. He tilted himself enough to look over to Sam's other side, where Gabriel was reclining easily in a chair, his head propped up against Sam's hip. It was sort of sweet to see; Sam was stroking almost absently at Gabriel's hair, like he was a cat or something. "Bobby should have the protection done that we were discussing. Last I spoke with him, he was ironing out a few last minute details. We should stop by there first and gather what he's made. That'll help protect us and leave us free to devote a bit more energy to other things."

"Sounds good, little bird." Compared to everyone else, Gabriel sounded completely at ease. He didn't fool Spencer – there was enough of a connection between them that he knew his guardian was worried about him. But Spencer had made it clear he wanted space and Gabriel was granting him that.

Michael, however, still was not. "Spencer." He repeated his name a bit sharper this time, much more demand in it.

Once more, the archangel was ignored. This time it was Dean who spoke over top of him. "Hey Cas, why don't you and Doc fly on over and see about getting that stuff from Bobby? We'll let you know once we're on the road or at our motel or whatever and you can bring it over."

Both Raphael and Michael watched in stunned amazement as Castiel didn't even bother checking with either one of them. The most he gave was a look over to Gabriel, who nodded minutely, and then he reached a hand out towards Spencer. The fledgling was so relieved at the chance to escape that he didn't even flinch at the feel of Castiel's grace. He leaned into the touch and, a second later, the two were gone.

Almost all eyes went to Michael as he straightened himself up the instant Spencer vanished. Grace flashed in his eyes and to those that could see, his wings were lifted high behind him in a sign of his temper. Gabriel didn't move from his position against Sam. He did, however, put himself on alert, prepared for the temper his brother was known for. Across the table, Dean's eyes met Michael's and the archangel spoke in a low, furious voice. "Who are you to issue commands here?"

A flash in Dean's eyes showed that he wasn't immune to the dominance display that Michael was putting off. Only, he didn't back down the way that the archangel had most likely hoped for. Instead he straightened up and squared his shoulders in a way that those who knew him knew meant he was digging his heels in. "This isn't Heaven. You may rule up there, but down here we have free will. It's what our little group has been fighting for. It's what your Daddy gave us."

"Spencer is not one of yours. He is one of mine and, as such, my responsibility." Michael said flatly.

Off to the side, Gabriel bristled, but Dean beat him to it. "He's a grown man; he can make his own decisions. If he didn't want to talk about that phone call, it was his right. If he wanted to go, he's free to go."

"He's a child!"

"That's where you keep crewing up with him." Dean shot back, surprising him. Everyone watched quietly as the two faced off against one another. "By your standards he's a kid. But he's lived a human life, dude. In his mind, he's always going to think of himself as an adult, and he's not gonna let you treat him like some kid. Not to mention, he doesn't even know you. You're just some stranger to him. He's not just gonna open up and spill. That's not how humans work and it's definitely not how the Doc works."

"He doesn't trust people." Sam added in. In contrast to Dean's sharp tone, his own was low and steady. The calm to his brother's anger. He looked at Michael and didn't flinch from him. "From everything we've seen with him, trust doesn't come easily for Spencer. You've got to work for it."

"And even if he does trust you, he's not gonna open up to you about whatever that phone call was." Dean said.

The way that Raphael and Michael looked at one another showed their confusion. The fact that they were listening, that they weren't yelling or smiting or anything like that was a pretty amazing thing in Dean's books. He'd expected a lot more temper. Instead, they were both staring at the Winchesters in a curious way, like they were actually _listening_. "Why?" Raphael asked. "We're his family."

"We're angels." Gabriel said, finally speaking up.

Sam spread out the hand that wasn't in Gabriel's hair palm up, a gesture of peace and almost a plea to listen. It was the same gesture he gave Dean when he was really trying to make his point sink home with his brother. "He doesn't know you as family. But even if you were – I get the impression Spencer doesn't let anyone in, really. He's not the type of person to let someone take care of him. He takes care of everyone else. Opening up and sharing his problems just doesn't seem like the type of thing he does. He's definitely not going to do it if you demand it from him. If you want him to trust you and confide in you than you're going to have to work at it and earn that trust from him."

Pulling away from Sam a little, Gabriel pushed up to his feet. "I warned you, Mikey. He's not like other fledglings. He didn't grow up in Heaven. That means he doesn't know how we're used to things being. He's not gonna do the things you think a fledgling should do. Until you realize that, you're gonna get nowhere with him." Turning to look at Sam and Dean, the archangel smiled. "C'mon, boys. We've got some things to go set up."

With a snap of the fingers, they were gone.

* * *

 _The next chapter is Famine, I promise you, and things move fast after that. This is way longer and wordier than I'd intended._

 _A lot of you keep asking about when/if they're going to meet the team. I just wanted to let you know, the team as a whole doesn't make a real appearance in this story. Just bits and pieces like this. However, right now my plans have the next story as Spencer, the CM team, and the archangels, no Winchesters. Sounds interesting, right? ;)_


	27. Between Hope and Destruction Part 14

_Sorry this took me so long! Here it is :) At least it's a long one LOL_

 _By the way, if Spencer or anyone else seems a bit OOC, I think it'll make sense to you by the time the chapter is done. There's a reason!_

* * *

It took almost twenty minutes after Gabriel gave the all clear before Castiel and Spencer finally extracted themselves from Bobby's house and made their way to the motel that the others were waiting at. Unfortunately, it sounded like things hadn't exactly gone well during those twenty minutes. Instead of finding everyone waiting for them and maybe even talking about the mission, they found the Winchesters squaring off while Gabriel was nowhere in sight.

Spencer tensed at Castiel's side. He looked at Dean, who had his jaw set and his chin up in a clearly stubborn pose, and then over to Sam, who looked furious.

Their arrival had both men spinning towards them and Spencer took an instinctive step back when Sam's furious eyes shot his way. "Did you know about this?"

"Leave him outta this." Dean snapped.

Out of what? Spencer looked back and forth between the two with confusion. What had he missed? What happened between Gabriel contacting Castiel and them arriving here?

Castiel was braver than Sam. He took the two steps to close the distance between him and Dean and actually reached out to lay a hand on the hunter's arm while looking back and forth between the brothers. "What is going on?"

It didn't look like Dean really wanted to answer that question. Sam, however, had absolutely no issue whatsoever on that. "Apparently Famine has some giant plan to get me back on demon blood and become Lucifer's bitch and Dean didn't think I needed to know about it! Gabe had to be the one to tell me."

 _Oh._ Realization hit and had Spencer's eyes widening. Oh, wow. Dean hadn't told Sam about that yet? _Wow. Way to go, Dean_ , he thought, shaking his head.

This definitely wasn't Spencer's fight and it wasn't one that he wanted to be witness to. As the two shouted, he tried to think of a way out of here, a way to retreat without drawing attention to himself. He didn't want to get in the middle of this kind of argument. But there was no real way to extract himself from this. He was stuck standing uncomfortably on the sidelines wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Spencer got so focused on his thoughts that he didn't notice at first when the argument went quiet. When he looked up, the boys were on opposite sides of the room, with Sam sitting down on his bed and his head in his hands. The sight tugged at something inside of Spencer and he chewed on his lip, debating going over to join him. Touch really wasn't something that Spencer was comfortable with or good at. But sometimes Derek or JJ seemed eased when they were upset and he'd sit next to them. They never had to touch. Just sitting at their side made them feel a little better. Would it help Sam feel a little better?"

His dejected pose apparently got to Dean as well. The older hunter looked down at Sam with something on his face that just barely hid the worry and ache Spencer could feel coming off him. "Sam…" He paused and blew out a breath before trying again. "Sammy, we'll figure it out. If I didn't think you could handle it, I wouldn't have brought you here."

"You shouldn't have." Sam said softly. He didn't look up at them, just stared down at the ground between his feet.

There was shame rolling off of him and filling up the room until Spencer thought he might choke on it. He wings twitched behind him, one of them reaching out without conscious thought to rest around Sam without actually touching him, a barrier meant to protect and soothe. Spencer watched the hunter, not seeing the way that Castiel and Dean were both watching him. "Sam, your brother's right. You can handle this." Spencer said softly. Then, almost hesitantly, he added "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yeah, right." The look on Sam's face as he glanced up was probably supposed to be a sneer but really only managed to convey so much self-loathing it made Spencer ache for him. Hazel eyes drifted back down, looking anywhere but at the faces that were all turned his way. "I'm the only one here who's got to worry about turning into a junkie for _demon blood_ of all things, Spencer. But oh, sure, nothing to be ashamed of."

It looked like Dean wanted to say something to that. Holding up a hand, Spencer shook his head, hoping Dean would listen to him and keep quiet. He was kind of surprised to see that he did, but Spencer didn't take the time to marvel over it. His focus stayed on Sam, on the emotions that were rolling off of him. He even ignored the arrival of his guardian off to the side. None of the others really mattered in that moment. Spencer focused on Sam and tried to steel himself for what he was about to say. It was the only thing he could think of to help offer comfort and, much as he hated it, they had just as much a right to know about him as they did about Sam. He'd realized that almost from the moment they'd talked about coming after Famine. It was better that everyone was here to hear it at once. He just, couldn't say it if he focused on them all. So he focused on Sam. "Our drugs of choice might be different but, trust me, you're not going to be the only addict here."

He felt the attention of the others snap to him and fought to continue to ignore them. He kept his gaze on Sam, whose head had shot up, surprised eyes going straight to Spencer. Seeing the shock there, Spencer huffed out a sound that might've been a laugh or might've just been some pitiful excuse for a breath. Not even he was sure. He stuffed his hands down into his pockets and unconsciously drew in on himself. This wasn't something he talked about – it was never talked about. Yet how could he preach to Sam about not needing to be ashamed and then turn around and be too ashamed to speak for himself?

Spencer licked dry lips and tried to fight to make sure his voice was steady – a skill he had his addiction to thank for. He'd learned how to keep himself and his voice steady even as the withdrawals had shaken through him. "My drug of choice was Dilaudid." Spencer said, voice far steadier than he felt. "I didn't start it for any noble cause like you did, either. I didn't take it thinking that it was my only way to save my brother or to stop one of the most powerful demons. I took it for my own pleasure, because I liked the numb feeling. Because it made everything _stop_ for just a little while." The memories, the pain, the fear, the swell of his powers, all of it _stopped_.

Drawing in a breath that was just a little too shaky for his liking, the fledgling gathered his courage and quirked up one corner of his mouth in a mockery of a smile that did nothing to hide the ache underneath. "You've even been clean longer than I have, Sam. The weekend you found me I was home in Vegas recovering from my detox. So, trust me, I highly doubt you're going to be the only one craving while we're there. And it's nothing for you to be ashamed of. Anyone who has an issue can just deal with it. No one's perfect. You made mistakes but you've working to correct them. That's all that should matter."

"He's right." Gabriel chimed in.

The archangel didn't show hesitation like the others. He moved up easily towards Sam and dropped down onto the bed beside him. His grin was just a bit softer than normal, slightly less mocking, and both Castiel and Spencer could see how Gabriel's wings came out to curl around Sam's back protectively. Smiling, Gabriel pulled a sucker out of his pocket and held it out towards Sam, who gave a ghost of a smile as he took the offered candy. "It'll be all right, Princess." Gabriel told him. "You got this. And you got us here to help." His eyes flicked up towards Spencer for just a moment on that last part and the fledgling knew those words were meant for him, too.

Spencer drew his own wings back in now that Gabriel had his around Sam. He made sure to brush his against his guardian's first, a silent greeting between them and a hint of an apology for both now and earlier.

Once he had them back in, he pulled on the smile that he'd learned to fake so long ago and turned away from Sam and Gabriel, ignoring the pang inside at seeing the two so close on the bed, as well as seeing the other two so close on the other side of the room. Spencer felt out of place for a moment. Like the third wheel to two couples, both of whom probably needed a bit of alone time right now. Sam definitely needed a bit of time with Gabriel. It showed in the way he leaned in close to Gabriel's side, accepting the comfort that was being silently offered. Dean looked on edge too and he was a little closer to Castiel than he normal was – which was saying a lot, seeing as how Castiel seemed to have no sense of personal space when it came to his Winchester.

"Well," Spencer said, taking a small step back, smile still firmly in place. "If you'll excuse me for a few, I missed out on breakfast this morning and I'd like to go and find something to eat."

He was almost to the door when Dean started to move towards him. "I'll come with you. I need something to eat, too."

That hadn't exactly been a part of his plan but he wasn't going to protest. The look that Dean discreetly cast towards the pair on the bed made it pretty clear why he was going. Spencer had to admit he was impressed. Dean had gone from physically fighting with Sam over the younger man's relationship with the trickster to deliberately leaving them alone. Spencer's smile softened a little and he nodded. "Of course."

In short order the two made their way out to the car. There was no real surprise that Castiel followed after them. Spencer had expected it and he went automatically to climb into the backseat. What did surprise him was when Dean turned so that he could look at the both of them and said "I get the feeling we should keep out for a while. How do you two feel about hitting up the bar instead of a diner?"

Spencer tossed the idea around in his head for a moment. Then he nodded. "Sounds good." A bar sounded far more appealing than a diner did. Spencer wasn't the type to drink away his troubles – after the Dilaudid, he wasn't really one to try and lean on any sort of substance. But he couldn't deny that the burn of alcohol in his gut sounded like a pleasant thing after a day like today. There'd just been a little too much crap piled up on his plate for one day. If he could lose himself in a bar for just a little while and at the same time grant Sam and Gabriel some privacy, it was a win-win situation.

Just to cover his bases, as Dean started up the car Spencer sent out a little tendril of thought to his guardian. ' _We're going to go to whatever local bar there is and give you two some privacy. When you're ready, either come join us or let me know it's safe to come back_.'

' _Can do, little bird_.' Gabriel sent back almost immediately. ' _And thanks. We'll come find you guys in a little while_.'

Content, Spencer settled back in his seat.

* * *

It didn't take the long to find a bar. Once inside, they got their drinks and found a table towards the back to settle down into. It gave them a view of the pool tables while keeping them sort of sequestered from most of the crowd. Spencer was kind of grateful for it. The emotions in here were a bit high and he had to work for a second to block out the empathy. Castiel seemed to realize what he was doing and he hesitantly brushed a wing over Spencer's arm. The gesture was one of support, a silent offering of understanding and strength, and Spencer appreciated it. His own wings were tucked away to keep him safe, so he couldn't offer a touch back like he might've otherwise. Instead, he let his fingers brush over Castiel's feathers, just a silent and brief touch to let him know his own had been appreciated and that it was okay. They weren't great with each other yet, he and Castiel. But they were working on it.

Dean seemed a bit impressed when Spencer drank from his glass of scotch without a flinch or a wince. "Didn't peg you for a drinker."

"I prefer wine, usually." Spencer admitted. "But scotch seemed more appropriate tonight, and theirs isn't half bad."

There was a moment where Spencer saw some hesitation on Dean's face. Then the older Winchester fixed him with a look that Spencer had seen him give Sam plenty of times. One that said he was uncomfortable but he was going to do this because he felt it was important. It was a look Spencer hadn't expected to see directed his way. "You wanna talk about it?"

Those five words meant more to Spencer than Dean probably realized. He could hear the offer in there - Dean would really listen to him if he wanted - and he could also tell that if he said no, Dean would respect it.

For a second Spencer contemplated his glass. He was aware of both men watching him, waiting patiently. Sighing, he took another drink. "An old Unsub came after one of my team. He killed a very old friend of his in his apartment to send a message. They stopped him, but I just...feel as if I should've been there."

"Shit." Dean said lowly. "I'm sorry, man. That sucks."

They were words plenty of people had said to Spencer over the years for various things. The difference here was that he could tell Dean meant it. Somehow, that eased a bit of the tension in Spencer's shoulders. "Thanks." He smiled at them and let a little more tension bleed away. "So, we're not putting ourselves at risk here, right? Famine's not expected to be in town yet?"

"We should have a few days." Castiel reassured him.

"Good."

The trio lost themselves in simple conversation for a while. They just talked about easy things and Spencer and Dean both laughed when they watched Castiel scrunch up his face after trying a bit of Dean's beer. Spencer convinced him to try something else and ordered him a cocktail that seemed a bit more Gabriel's style - fruity and sweet. He couldn't help his grin at the pleased look that covered Castiel's face when he drank it. "This is much better." The angel said fervently.

Dean shook his head at him. "Angels, man. No taste at all."

There was a sort of air between Dean and Castiel that spencer found interesting to watch. He was curious if they'd actually done anything with one another yet. Had they admitted their feelings? He wasn't sure and he wasn't going to ask. That wasn't his business. If they wanted others to know, they would tell them.

After a few drinks, which didn't hit Spencer the way they normally did, he got a bit bored just talking and decided that it might be time to try out the pool tables. He hadn't played for a while. No one back home wanted to actually play with him anymore.

Dean watched from the table as Spencer started to play a game on his own. He winced as he watched him. Wow, the kid really didn't know how to play. Either that or he was more drunk than Dean had realized. When someone went up and started talking to Spencer, obviously trying to play, Dean actually made as if to get up and go help him. Especially when he saw Spencer lay some money down on the table. Castiel's hand on his arm stopped him. "Spencer is fine." The angel assured him.

"Dude, he's gonna get creamed." Dean mumbled.

And he was right. For the first game, Spencer lost, though he did a bit better than Dean had thought he would. He was definitely showing his inexperience, though.

Which, of course, was all part of Spencer's plan.

By the time the third game was done, Spencer walked away with four times the money he'd started with, and he did it all without ever once pissing off the guys he was playing with. There was a hint of a smug smile over his lips when he slipped back down in his chair. Castiel had a faint smile as well. Dean, however, looked impressed. "You hosed the hell outta them."

Smothering his smile, Spencer put on his best innocent look, which he knew was ruined by the amusement in his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit. Where'd you learn to play like that?"

"I got into college on scholarships, but those only paid the main bills. I still needed to eat as well as pay bills back home." Spencer shrugged one shoulder and slipped his cash carefully into his shirt pocket. "I learned how to hustle pretty early. Besides, you do realize I grew up in Las Vegas, right? It'd be more worrisome if I _didn't_ know how to hustle."

"I'm so taking you with us the next time we go. You'd clean out the casinos."

A hint of a blush touched Spencer's cheeks. "Ah, well. Um." He huffed out a breath. "I'm sort of...banned, from most casinos because of my card counting abilities."

The sound of Dean's laughter echoed around them.

Pleased by the sound, and by the relaxed set on both his friends, Spencer smiled.

* * *

By the time Gabriel called them back to the motel, everyone was in much better moods all around. They spent the afternoon trying to prepare themselves as much as possible. The wards that Bobby had made, with Spencer's help, were placed not only on the room to keep them hidden, but on _them_ as well. It gave them a bit of security while they tried to prepare themselves for the Horseman to come to town.

The plan was simple, really. They were here in the town where they knew Famine was going to be setting up. Thanks to Spencer's research, and Castiel's battle tactics, the two had figured out that this was where his end game was. This was where he was going to try and set up whatever trap it was he had planned for Sam. With them being here first, the hope was that they would recognize his arrival and have a trap of their own ready.

"He's not like some demon we can lure somewhere." Gabriel warned them. "We can't set up a warehouse where he can just come on in and we've got him trapped in wards. He's gonna go wherever it is that he wants to go and then he'll start luring you guys in from there. We just need to figure out where exactly it is he might go and then build a battle plan for there. But you guys gotta realize that a lot of this planning, it's more for the fight itself, not for any hope of trapping him. Horsemen are strong and they're mostly smart. They aren't going to walk into a standard trap."

Which basically meant that they were going to have to play a waiting game. But they could protect themselves and prepare and be here at ground zero to go after him the minute they could – hopefully before any humans were hurt. Spencer hated the risks with this but he didn't really have any sort of a choice. He wasn't a strategist; he didn't know how to prepare for war. He didn't know how to do things this way. What he knew was how to stop them once they'd already started killing.

By the time dinner had come and gone, they were as prepared as they were going to be. Everyone was marked with the sigils they hoped would help negate Famine's powers and they'd all listened to Spencer's warnings that this might only slow the effects down, or lessen them, not actually stop them outright.

It wasn't until it came time for bed that Spencer realized one problem – they'd only booked one room. One room for two hunters, two angels, and a fledgling. Dean realized the problem at about the same time that Spencer did. He looked around the room at the two beds, the couch, and the armchair. "Uh, guys?"

"It's fine." Spencer cut in before Dean could get going and actually catch anyone's attention. Sam, Castiel and Gabriel were all bent over the town map at the table and none had looked up at Dean's words. Smiling, Spencer lightly brushed his fingers against Dean's arm. "I'll take the couch. I don't really need as much sleep as either of you." Plus, he had to admit, a part of him liked the idea of them all being together. It was much easier to protect them all if they were all in the same space. A little part of his grace gave a happy hum at the idea of them all being in the same room.

A snap of his fingers brought some extra blankets into existence over the couch. They were from his bed back at the beach house and Spencer gave a pleased nod. Perfect. He was getting better at his powers with each passing day.

The sound of his snap drew more than a few eyes. Sam looked to the blankets and then back up to Spencer. "Spencer, you don't have to sleep on the couch."

"There's not enough room to bring in a whole other bed." Spencer pointed out. He sat down on the couch and bent down to start untying his shoes.

Gabriel looked around and then shrugged one shoulder. "I could make one fit."

"I'm sure." Spencer couldn't keep the small spark of humor out of his voice. "But seeing as how I'm perfectly content to sleep here on the couch, that won't be necessary."

Ignoring everyone else for the moment, Spencer pulled his shoes off and tucked them under the coffee table. Then he stretched himself out on the couch and reached out for his pile of blankets. He didn't really think anything of it when Gabriel slipped over towards him and lightly slapped his hands away from the blankets. This wasn't the first time his guardian had tucked him in to bed like he was some sort of child. IT was one of the things Spencer had learned to ignore and simply compromise on. It didn't hurt him and it made Gabriel happy to lift the blankets up and tuck them over him.

The others all pretended to go about their own business while it happened. Dean went to the bathroom, presumably to start getting ready for bed, and Sam and Castiel busied themselves cleaning up their maps and everything they were using to plan with. That left Spencer and Gabriel with the semblance of privacy as the archangel sat down on the edge of the couch near Spencer's head. There was concern clear in warm honey eyes. "Been a bit of a day for you." Gabriel murmured lowly.

Spencer smiled slightly and rolled onto his side, pulling his pillow down under his head a little better. It blocked view of the others and let him pretend to be alone with Gabriel for a moment. "Yeah."

"Anything I can do to help, kiddo?"

There really wasn't much that anyone could do to help right now. Spencer shook his head and tilted his face into the light touch that was brushing over his cheek now. "Nothing that you're not already doing."

Dean came out of the bathroom then and Spencer heard as Sam took his place. There was only a moment more before the younger Winchester would be back and Spencer knew what his guardian had planned. Just as he also knew it probably wouldn't go over well with Dean. Which, really, was going to be a small part of the appeal to Gabriel.

The archangel bent down and pressed a kiss against Spencer's forehead. "Good night, little sparrow."

"Night, _ol'alihm_."

Spencer burrowed down into his blankets and left just enough of his head peeking free for him to be able to see it as Gabriel settled himself down onto Sam's bed – and as Dean noticed. The noise he made was one that Spencer knew the hunter wouldn't live down for a long time. It was somewhere between a squeak and something that reminded Spencer of an annoyed cat. Spencer could see Gabriel's gleeful grin from here.

There was no chance for Dean to say anything more than a "What the hell are you doing?" before the bathroom door opened and Sam came out. It got even better when Sam simply moved over towards the bed without any sign of hesitation and climbed right in. He laid down against Gabriel's side and ended up with his head pillowed on the trickster's chest.

"Oh, dude." Dean groaned out. "Can you not? I'm right here!"

Sam's arm tightened around Gabriel's waist. Smirking, Gabriel shot a look over to Castiel – who was still standing at the foot of Dean's bed – and then back to the hunter. "Don't tell me you aren't hoping to do the same thing there, bucko."

That sure caught everyone's attention. They all looked, everyone's faces turning to watch as Dean blushed.

Spencer chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked back and forth between Castiel and Dean. Then, without letting himself give it too much thought, he lifted a hand and snapped. Two things happened at once. The lights turned off – and Castiel appeared next to Dean in bed.

The sounds of cursing and laughter had Spencer burrowing back into his blankets once more. He curled in and ignored the sounds, smothering his own chuckles as he listened to Dean cursing Gabriel, dead sure that it was him that had done it. But even when all the noise settled down and it seemed like everyone was drifting off to sleep, it didn't escape Spencer's notice that Castiel hadn't left Dean's bed.

 _Nice one, little bird,_ Gabriel's voice echoed with amusement in Spencer's mind. _I think I'm starting to rub off on you._

Smiling, the fledgling drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next day didn't really hold anything exciting for the group. They narrowed down their list of places that Famine might go to and finally ended up with two good options. A local Biggerson's that Gabriel said was a sort of perfect feeding ground for him, or the hospital. Either place would probably provide him with a perfect pool with which to work. Once they had the venue narrowed down, all they had left to do was try to plan their attack – and wait.

It wasn't exactly easy to do. Neither Dean nor Sam were the type to sit around and wait. Gabriel really wasn't either. You would've expected that an archangel would have some form of patience, at least. But those three were slowly driving Spencer and Castiel insane. Gabriel, at least, got out for a little bit when he went to go check in with Michael and Raphael in the hopes of being able to find out what was going on with Zachariah. Nothing had changed yet when he reported back – not on their end or on this one.

By the time night rolled around again, Spencer was seriously contemplating some kind of violence. Knocking Sam and Dean's heads together sounded like a good start. Those two argued more than they did anything else and they seemed to delight in getting on one another's nerves. Gabriel was absolutely no help – the trickster egged it on sometimes.

Spencer managed to escape for a little bit and he firmly dragged Castiel out with him. Not only because none of them were supposed to go anywhere alone, but because he wasn't cruel enough to leave the poor seraph there alone to run herd on that crew. They went out under the pretense of grabbing some dinner despite the fact that any one of the angels in the room could've snapped something up for them. Spencer didn't even give Gabriel time to make that suggestion. He just grabbed hold of Castiel's arm, a move that was enough to startle more than a few since Spencer really wasn't the touching type, and he dragged him towards the door with a call of "We're going to get dinner – we'll be back!"

Once they were outside, he offered his brother – and wow, did it still feel weird even _thinking_ that – an apologetic smile. "Sorry for just yanking you out of there, Castiel. I couldn't just leave you in there to deal with those three."

"I appreciate it." Castiel's said. His voice was dry, as was his humor, and Spencer found himself smiling a little at that.

The two didn't really talk all that much as they went down to the closest diner to get some food. It was something about Castiel that Spencer really did appreciate. The other angel didn't always feel the need to talk and fill in the silences. He wasn't human and he didn't have all those awkward human hang-ups. Spencer was quiet, so Castiel was quiet as well. They didn't say much until after they'd gathered up all the food they ordered and were preparing to walk the few blocks back to the motel. "Are you ready for this?" Spencer asked him teasingly.

A little hesitantly, Castiel brushed one of his wings against Spencer's, relaxing when Spencer returned the gesture just as hesitantly. "I believe we can handle them. Though, they do tend to test those limits, don't they?"

"They don't like being cooped up. Add Gabriel into the mix and it only makes things a little more tense. He helps Sam to relax, but he sets Dean on edge."

"Dean does not fully trust him yet."

Spencer nodded. "Yeah. They've got too much of a history there. But, having you there relaxes him, Castiel."

He caught sight of the slight smile that touched Castiel's lips. More telling was the way his wings puffed out in obvious happiness. Then, in a human move that was rather surprising from him, Castiel slanted a look towards Spencer that was just slightly hesitant and clearly unsure. "You believe so?"

"Of course." Spencer answered immediately. "He cares for you, Castiel. It's written in every inch of him. His soul lights up when you're in the room with him. Last night is the most peaceful I've ever seen him sleep and it was solely because of your presence in his bed." A light flush touched Spencer's cheeks at saying something so bold.

Castiel, however, had no such objections to speaking. As Spencer was coming to realize, angelic siblings were a bit different than human ones. There didn't seem to be this need for secrets. Gabriel had warned him about that. He'd warned Spencer that getting close with Castiel or another angel would probably be quite a bit different than getting close to a human. Angels had once shared everything. They were connected – angel radio, as the boys called it – and all touches in Heaven involved touching grace to grace, which you couldn't do without sharing at least a little something. Keeping secrets hadn't become a thing until after Lucifer's fall. "Even if they don't do it anymore," Gabriel had said "that kind of sharing is something angels crave. Don't be surprised if Cassie tries it with you. He wants that connection, especially since going home hasn't been all that safe for him lately."

"I care for Dean, a great deal, and I believe he cares for me." Castiel said. Then his wings slumped just a bit and his gaze dropped down to watch their feet as they walked. "However, he is unsure and uncomfortable pursuing this. Gabriel says it has something to do with what he called a 'human hang up' over sexuality. He slept with me in his bed last night and yet today, ignores that entirely. I am…unsure."

Of all people to come to for advice, the idea of Castiel coming to him was laughable. What did he expect Spencer to know? He wasn't really an expert on relationships! But that didn't mean that he wouldn't try to help. Spencer couldn't help how he reached out in response to the sadness he felt from his brother. He used one of his wings and slid it under Castiel's, boosting it up and then curling around his back in a gesture that was like a hug. "Be patient with him, brother." Spencer murmured, curling his wing a little more and drawing Castiel in until their shoulders bumped together. "You're important to him. But Gabriel's right. Humans have a lot of problems with the idea of same gender relationships. For all that you're genderless, your vessel _is_ male, and Dean needs time to work through that. All you can do is continue to be there for him the way that you are and let him know that you care. He needs to be able to work through this on his own."

Spencer didn't notice the awed look on Castiel's face at the use of the word 'brother'. He didn't even realize that he'd said it, or how much it meant to the angel to hear it, especially after their rocky start. What he did notice was the cautious curl of Castiel's wing around him. Spencer had his wing low, tucked under Castiel's and more around the seraph's waist. That allowed Castiel just enough room to lay his wing gently around Spencer's shoulders, feathers brushing against the wings on Spencer's other side. It was kind of awkward at first for them to find the angle that allowed them to walk that way, especially since Spencer had six wings to Castiel's two, but they made it work and were still mostly curled around one another when they reached the motel. They hadn't said anything else after Spencer's last words. They hadn't needed to.

They separated slightly so that they could go inside. But a barrier had been broken down between them and they exchanged more touches that night than normal. Spencer pretended not to notice just how happy it made Gabriel. He ignored his guardian's smugness and instead just let himself settle down onto Sam's bed with Gabriel. He'd hesitated briefly, casting an unsure look at Sam. This was Sam's bed, one that he was apparently now sharing with Gabriel, and he didn't want to intrude. But Sam just smiled and scooted enough to make room. That was all the invitation that Spencer needed. He let Gabriel pull him down and right against his side.

It was absurdly comfortable where Spencer found himself. Gabriel's wings were out, something that didn't always happen out where others might see, and Spencer was underneath the shelter of them, his cheek pressed against Gabriel's shoulder. He let his fingers slip out to brush lightly over the feathers in front of him. In response, Gabriel never broke in his conversation with Dean – some sort of debate about a television show that sounded like some doctor soap opera – but he curled his middle wing in around Spencer and gave him more access to it. Spencer made a happy sound low in his throat and tangled his fingers in the feathers.

They stayed there for a while, not only eating their meal but eventually discussing their plan. Time stretched on for hours it felt like and yet Spencer found himself content to stay where he was. He was half asleep, dozing against his guardian while everyone talked around him. He hadn't been all that tired before, hadn't really been tired for a while, but he figured it was just the trouble of the past few days catching up with him and the comfort that he always found with Gabriel combining to draw him under. He didn't really think anything about it.

Almost an hour later, his bubble of peace was disturbed. When Sam got up from the bed, the loss of his warmth nearby was enough to pull Spencer up from the little half-sleep he'd been in. He furrowed his brows and cast an unhappy look after the hunter. Then he saw he was only going to the bathroom. Oh.

He waited impatiently for Sam to come back. When he did, Spencer waited until Sam was just close to the bed and then stretched out the largest of his wings to curl it around the hunter. Instead of letting Sam go past him to go to Gabriel's other side, he used his wing to draw him down to the bed, chuckling when Sam stumbled and half fell. Spencer's grace hummed happily as he found himself squished between his guardian and his guardian's human – _mate,_ a small part of Spencer's mind whispered – with Gabriel's heat against one side of him, wings around him, and now Sam on his other side pressing up against his hip and legs. They surrounded him and the fledgling made a happy sound. He made another one when he heard Sam's chuckle. "Well hello there, Spencer." The hunter said, still chuckling. He sat up and looked at him with amused eyes. "Can I help you?"

Spencer smiled and used the wing he still had around him to tug him just a little closer. "Nope!"

Dean seemed just as amused as Sam was, but it was the two angels who caught everyone's attention. Castiel had gone still beside Dean and Gabriel had stiffened as well. Feeling it, Spencer reached out with his grace, responding to Gabriel's worry and trying to offer what reassurance he could. Had he done something wrong?

"Hey, no, you're okay kiddo." Gabriel said immediately. He pulled his wing a bit tighter around Spencer and then looked up to Castiel. "Cas?"

Whatever was asked in that single word, Castiel shook his head. "No."

"Damn." Gabriel swore. He looked back down at Spencer and reached out to brush a bit of his hair from his face. "Must be something in the grace-soul mix. He's still got just enough human in him."

"What's going on?" Dean asked. He set his food down and sat up a little, watching Gabriel carefully. Sam had turned more alert as well, moving just slightly away from him, and Spencer made a low sound of protest that Sam responded immediately to. The hunter pressed back in, making Spencer's grace relax again.

That relaxation cleared Spencer's head just enough that he could think through the cloud of _want_ and _need_ and _family_ that felt like it was fogging his head. He looked at how close he was pressed to Gabriel, how he'd drawn Sam in until they were almost tangled together in this little squished up pile on the bed, and he felt his cheeks heat. Inside he could feel his grace wanting to wrap around these two and just burrow down into them and stay there. He wanted to drag Castiel over, too, and tangle their wings like they'd done outside and feel that connection of brotherhood once more. There was a need in him, this need to be close to them – close to _family_. "Oh." Spencer said lowly. Famine was all about hunger, but he'd been so sure that his own hunger would be his recent addiction. He hadn't expected this.

Gabriel must've followed his trail of thoughts. He nodded, tightening his wing around Spencer. "Yeah. Looks like we were off on our guesses. I've got no idea how I didn't sense him, but it seems like Famine's come to town a little earlier than planned."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked. He looked even more worried now, and on edge, like he was preparing for trouble to come busting through the door.

It was Castiel who answered him. "It would appear that our trip to the diner earlier exposed Spencer to Famine's influence somehow. My grace protected me but Spencer is enough human that it seems to have affected him, despite the wards we put on him. His body and grace are craving the connection that all fledglings have. Famine's influence has turned it into a hunger for family, for home, and he is reacting by surrounding himself with his family."

Spencer ducked his head down a little and couldn't quite help the embarrassment that he felt. Great. He'd been all prepared to handle drug cravings if the wards didn't work and instead he was craving _family_. What did that say about his life that family and closeness was the one thing he apparently craved more than anything else?

"You've got absolutely nothing to be ashamed about, Spencer." Gabriel's voice was firm and left no room for argument. "It's your instincts that are being drawn to the forefront. There's nothing whatsoever wrong with wanting to be close to your family. Famine's influence just makes you want it more an unable to resist it. It's _fine_." As if to back that up, Gabriel's grace pushed out and wrapped around him, making Spencer's grace glow happily.

To his surprise, Sam pressed in closer as well. "He's right. There's not a thing wrong with wanting to have family around you."

"You're doing remarkably well with it." Castiel said. "Fledglings often pile together when they're young. Either Famine's influence is still building in you, or you have a very strong sense of control."

Dean was the one to draw attention away from Spencer and back to the important topic, much to Spencer's relief. "So if he's in town, our plans need pushed up. Especially if he's already gotten to Spencer."

"If he's gotten to Spencer, how well will the wards work on us?" Sam asked. "He's got grace to help protect him and they still didn't work."

"They might still work. We knew there was a chance that they wouldn't work on him since all of them were keyed for humans and he's only a little human." Gabriel pointed out.

Still, it was a risk, and they all knew it. Just as Spencer knew that this was about to be even harder, because as much as he hated it, he knew there was no way they were going to be able to bring him along. Not with him feeling and acting like this. Getting closer to Famine would only make the feelings stronger, so far as he understood. There was no way he'd be able to help in a fight if he was trying to bury himself against Gabriel, or pulling Sam or anyone else in to some sort of cuddle. They needed to be free to move and act. That meant…Spencer's grace twisted, as did his stomach. That meant they were going to have to leave him here. Alone. He couldn't quite stop the pained sound that thought drew out of him.

He didn't get a chance to voice the fear. Sam pointed it out for him – "We can't leave him here alone."

"You really think he'd want anyone other than us to see him like this?" Dean asked. Spencer wanted to protest the fact that they were talking over top of him like he was some child, like he wasn't even in the room, but he didn't really get a chance. Dean just kept going, talking before Spencer could. "Look at him. He doesn't even like _us_ seeing him this way."

"I'm right _here_." Spencer snapped. No matter how childish he was acting, he was an adult and he was sitting _right here_. The least they could do was treat him with the courtesy of talking _to_ him instead of _over_ him.

The soft touch of Gabriel's hand through one of his wings sent a little shiver of pleasure through him. Not the sexual kind, but the simple happy and content kind. He flushed in embarrassment, but Gabriel just stroked his feathers again. "We know, little bird. And we're not judging you or anything like that But your head's not entirely in the right place. If it were any other thing he triggered in you, that would've been different, but this is pulling on the fledgling in you and I know you can see how that makes your judgment a bit compromised." Bending himself, he pressed a kiss against Spencer's temple. "Just let us take care of you, okay?"

How on earth was he supposed to argue that? Spencer wanted to, he really did, but he couldn't argue with that kind of logic – or that kind of affection.

There was one obvious solution to their problem and they all knew what it was. To their surprise, none of them had to bring it up. Sam saved them from having to say it. He blew out a breath and looked down at Spencer and something flashed across his face, there and gone again, before it firmed into that look that said he'd clearly made a decision. "I'll stay with him." Looking back to the others, he tried to smile. It fell just a little short of the mark and carried far too much self-deprecation to it for anyone's liking. "We all know I'm the one most likely to cause trouble if these wards don't work. It makes more sense for me to stay here with him. I can help give him what he needs and he's strong enough to keep me here if I start having troubles."

There wasn't really any argument that anyone could make to that. It did make the most sense. Gabriel watched his partner silently and Spencer had a feeling they were exchanging silent conversation or comfort. A corner of Gabriel's mouth quirked up. "I can give you a bit of grace before I go. Just sort of, infuse you with it a little. It should help you fight somewhat and it'll help Spencer as well. He'll be drawn to it because it's mine."

The part of Spencer that was getting a little louder didn't really like the idea of everyone leaving – especially the one that he was curled up against.

"We can't waste time. If Spencer here is already affected by this from just a trip to the diner, who knows how bad it is out there for anyone else." Dean pointed out.

"Unless this was a targeted attack." Castiel said slowly.

"How the hell would he know we're coming?" Dean demanded. "Who would've told him? No one but us knows our plans!"

Spencer shifted a little and forced himself to sit up somewhat, to be a part of the conversation. "He had to have people watching the town. Not demons – we would've sent those. But humans or something being controlled by demons, maybe. If they were watching, all they'd have to do is wait for us to show our faces. If I were him and this town were my end game, I would've had anyone I could watching to see when you get here, just on the off chance you got here first. Then, it can't be hard for them to get here. Demons can travel from one place to the next – who's to say a Horseman can't?"

"So they know we are here and they know we're coming." Castiel said.

The words had quite the sobering effect on the room. For a moment, everyone was quiet.

It was Dean who broke the silence. "It doesn't change anything." He said. When everyone looked at him, he shook his head. "It doesn't. We still have to go after him and we still have to hope our plan works. And if he's already getting to Spencer, we don't have time to waste. There's no telling how long before he starts affecting the people in town, too. Wasting time could mean letting people die, and that's not something I'm willing to do. We've prepared for this as much as we can. We need to go, now, before it gets any worse." He turned to look at Sam and Spencer. "You two need to lock yourselves in and keep as safe as possible. If I thought for a minute you'd go, I'd tell you to get the hell outta here till we deal with this."

Sam's expression hardened. "I'm not leaving. You go kill the son of a bitch, Dean, but we're staying here in case you need us."

The two shared one of those looks of theirs that let them pass countless words without ever saying anything. Spencer watched it, and he watched as they both nodded. Then Dean turned is focus back to the angels. "All right. Let's go gank ourselves a Horseman."


	28. Between Hope and Destruction Part 15

Things in the motel room turned uncomfortable for just a few moments once the others left. Both Spencer and Sam wanted nothing more than to be with their family right in that moment. It had been a whole lot harder than Spencer had anticipated to be able to let Gabriel go. All he wanted was to stay in the circle of the archangel's arms, tucked under those wings, safe and _home_. Gabriel had seemed to understand because he'd given Spencer an extra-long squeeze before finally pulling away. "I'll be back, sparrow." He promised, cupping his cheek. Then he'd kissed his forehead and left.

Spencer stood for a long moment in the middle of the room. His arms found their way around his waist and he clung tightly to himself. This was pathetic. He was a grown man. Instincts or no instincts, Famine or no Famine, he should be able to handle this. He should be able to cope! He should _not_ be standing here wishing he could drag Gabriel back in here where he knew the archangel would be safe and be able to keep him safe.

"They'll be all right, Spencer."

The fledgling didn't turn to look at Sam. "I know." He had faith in them – he did! It just felt _wrong_ to be here while they were out there risking themselves. It felt…weak. There was a part of him that was protesting being treated like a child. Just because he was clingy didn't mean that he couldn't help. He could control the need. How many years had he done that already? He'd always held in his need to cuddle or be cuddled. How was this any different? He could help!

Sam, at least, had a very valid reason not to be with the others. The risk there was just too high. There was no doubt what Famine would trigger in him and it was just smarter and safer for him to be here. Sam's problem wasn't just a ridiculous need for _family_.

A need that was growing stronger by the minute. Spencer wanted Gabriel back here; he wanted to be on that bed again with Gabriel's arms and wings around him, holding him close. He wanted to be wrapped up in the guardian that had been more of a father figure to him than his own father had ever been. But, at the same time, he wanted so much more than that. He wanted to climb onto the bed where Sam was currently sitting and curl himself up against the hunter. He wanted Dean and Castiel back here, safe and sound with them. And more, low down inside his grace, he wanted the rest of his family as well. If he could control his wings yet and could fly, he had a feeling his first stop would've been Vegas – Diana. Not that he would've stayed there. Oh, no. Because the more that Spencer thought about it, the more he _wanted._ He wanted the people who had become his family over the years. The ones who had been there for him when it felt like no one else had. Aaron, Derek, Penelope, Jason. Elle. Even Emily, a little, though she hadn't been there long. God, Spencer wanted them all. Wanted them here in the room with him, all of them safe and happy, curled up together in one place.

He heard Sam clear his throat and the sound jerked him out of his thoughts. Spencer focused his eyes on the bed and saw that Sam had made himself comfortable somewhere during all of Spencer's thinking. The young hunter had stolen the pillows off Dean's bed and used those as well as his own to make a comfortable backrest which he was leaning back against. It left his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out over the length of the bed.

When Sam saw he had Spencer's attention, he smiled. "All right, Spencer. There's no one here but you and me and I can guarantee you I'm not gonna mock you for anything that happens. So, whatever you need, you've got a blanket permission for it right here and right now. I'm not gonna freak out on you."

Those were like the magic words. Spencer couldn't have even explained how it was he did what he did next. One moment he was standing in the middle of the room and the next he was crashing down onto the bed beside Sam and half climbing up on him. To his relief, Sam didn't seem at all bothered or even that surprised. Apparently his time around Gabriel had desensitized him to certain things. He just let out a low laugh and wrapped his arms around Spencer to drag him in even closer. Once Spencer was pressed up against the side of him, one leg resting over his, Sam gave his bicep a soft squeeze. "Think you can snap us up the remote or something? We can at least watch a movie."

It'd be their only real chance at a distraction. Not that either thought it would work.

Without moving off him, Spencer snapped his fingers. A TV appeared at the foot of the bed, much nicer than the crap one nearby, and the remote landed on Sam's stomach.

Again, Sam laughed. Spencer decided he liked that sound. It wasn't mean or mocking or anything like that. It didn't make him feel like he was being made fun of. In a way, it kind of included him, like he was somehow a part of the joke even if he didn't understand what it was. Spencer liked that about Sam. After their rocky start, the hunter had proved to be one hell of a man, and a pretty good friend. He never seemed to look at Spencer like he was some sort of freak or anything like that. He didn't act like Spencer's existence was anything to hate or anything that made him somehow _less._ Then again, Sam had been considered an abomination by the angels ever since he met them. If there was anyone that could understand, it would be him.

Spencer didn't really care about whatever it was that Sam put on. He curled himself even closer and gave a happy little sigh when Sam tightened his grip. This wasn't as good as snuggling with Gabriel would be right now but it would do. Sam was close enough. He was Gabriel's mate, even if neither one ever said the words. They were just starting to get into that and the human side of Spencer recognized the newness of their relationship and all the ways it was developing. The angelic side of him, however, was speaking up at the moment and it said something different. _Gabriel's mate,_ it whispered to him. _Al'alihm. Mate to ol'alihm. Family._

They laid together for a little while without ever saying anything. Sam's hand was running up and down Spencer's spine and it felt ridiculously good. He arched up into the touch like a cat, and Sam chuckled but kept up the motions. It was good, so good, but it was...Spencer furrowed his brow and tried to think what he was missing here. What was wrong.

His body answered for him. When his wings pressed in close to curl against his back and drape slightly over Sam's legs, he knew what he wanted. Only, Sam didn't have any wings to shelter him under. He was human. But Spencer wanted the feel of wings pressing against his, sheltering him, caring for him. Couldn't Sam give him that somehow? Maybe if he...maybe…

Spencer wasn't aware of making any decision and he probably wouldn't have done it if he'd been in his clear mind. But one moment they were just lying there and the next Sam was gasping as six wings appeared in the room with them. "Spencer!"

"Sorry!" Spencer tried to scramble back, though his hands didn't want to let go of Sam. "Sorry, sorry!" Stupid! Sam was _human_! Showing off his wings could have caused some serious damage! They were made up of grace and just showing them like this could've blinded him! Gabriel had only just begun to teach Spencer how to keep them out without hurting humans eyes. It was kind of a half manifestation that brought them out just enough to be seen and touched without bringing them out enough to blind. If he hadn't instinctively gotten it right just now, he could've blinded Sam for life.

The arms around Spencer tightened and, though they both knew he could've gotten away if he wanted, he let Sam hold him in place. "No, don't go. It's fine." Sam reassured him. "I wasn't complaining. You just startled me, that's all. They're just… Spencer, they're _beautiful_."

There was so much awe in Sam's voice it had Spencer blushing. At the same time, he couldn't help but preen a little, his wings shuffling underneath Sam's awed gaze.

"Can I?"

The hesitant question took Spencer a second to understand. When he did, he made a soft, happy sound low in his throat, one that would embarrass him later. Then, very carefully, he laid himself back down against Sam and he lifted his topmost left wing, letting it sort of drape over Sam's lap. The other two went low, over his legs, while all his right side wings were spread out to the side and hanging off the edge of the bed.

Sam was slow to touch at first. Like he wasn't quite able to believe that he was really allowed, or like he maybe thought that something was going to happen to him. When his fingers finally touched, it sent a pulse of _warm_ and _family_ through Spencer that had him melting down into the bed. This...this was perfect! "Sam." He breathed the word out soft and low. His wing pushed up, encouraging Sam's fingers to start to card through the feathers. This was better than any time anyone had sat and stroked his hair for him till he fell asleep. This was absolutely amazing. Not as good as Gabriel's fingers in them, or his wings against Spencer's, but so damn perfect for the moment he couldn't stop the happy sounds that slipped from him. Sounds that the part of Spencer's brain that _wasn't_ affected by Famine was horrified to realize sounded disturbingly like some sort of chirruping noise.

Those sounds seemed to encourage Sam to explore more. His fingers lost their hesitant edge and moved with a bit more confidence. Long fingers carded through feathers that shifted happily under his touch. While these weren't a full manifestation of his wings – which held a lot more light and grace to them – they were close enough. They were more physical like this, giving his nickname of 'little bird' a bit more credit. Sam didn't seem to be bothered by it at all. If anything, he seemed in awe. "You have beautiful wings, Spencer. The colors… it's like the sunrise. Like they took the sunrise and put them in your wings."

"Bringer of the dawn." Spencer mumbled against Sam's chest. "The Incoming Light. It's what Gabriel calls me."

"They suit you."

Spencer sighed again and smiled to himself. Later on he would undoubtedly be beyond embarrassed about all of this. Right in the moment it was exactly what he wanted.

So, naturally, something had to disturb it.

Spencer felt them before they got close. There was no mistaking the feel of demons to his extra senses. It was enough to have his wings drawing in tight to his back and his whole body tensing. He saw Sam's worry and could only give him one word "Demons" before they were on them.

The door to the motel room burst open and Spencer was off the bed in a flash. His wings opened wide in blatant threat and he called up the knife that he'd seen Sam slip under the edge of the mattress earlier where it would've been in easy reach. The need to hide was startling – a sort of childlike fear of the beings in front of him, these horrifying monsters he could see inside the people, and it had him wanting to duck down and hide or cry out for Gabriel – but having Sam behind him and in danger, the urge to defend was even stronger than the fear. Spencer left his wings lift and spread and snarled as he leapt forward without even giving Sam or the others time to react.

His knife took out the first two. When one tried to grab at his wings, Spencer snapped them back and used them as weapons, throwing the demons off him. He heard Sam fighting off one and he knew it wasn't fair because _Spencer_ had the demon killing knife as well as the ability to smite – at least, Gabriel had insisted he could, even if they hadn't quite tested it – and it left Sam without a way to fully defend himself. In a flash, the fledgling flung one of his wings and knocked the demon away and then did the only thing he could think of that would be smart and the safest option for Sam.

He could give Sam the knife, but that would hurt the demons, make them _bleed_ , and that wasn't at all what Spencer wanted here. He wanted to be able to keep Sam safe and to save him from having to deal with something like this. So he caught Sam's eye across the room and warned him "Shut your eyes!"

When he was sure that Sam's eyes were shut tight, Spencer let go of the little bit that he'd been holding back with his wings, no longer worrying about letting the light of them shine through. His wings lifted, large and dangerous, and the light of his grace shone brightly. The room filled with screams and shrieks as the demons were burnt out of their hosts.

There was something in Spencer that rebelled at the idea of killing. He'd never liked it, even when the ones he took down were twisted in ways he knew they couldn't be healed from. Taking out demons didn't really feel any better. It was still killing something – something that had once been a human soul.

Spencer shoved down those thoughts and drew his wings quickly back in. Now wasn't the time to think about this. Now was the time to use his head and get them the hell out of here. "Sam." He quickly crossed the room to his friend and crouched down in front of him, trying to ignore the body by them. Reaching out, Spencer closed his hand over Sam's wrist and pulled. "It's clear. But we need to move, now. I was careful, but if anything is watching this town they won't have missed that light show."

His fears proved true just a second too late for them to do anything about it. They'd barely pushed their way up to their feet when the room suddenly filled with light and there was no time to run, no time to hide, as angels fell on them quicker than Spencer could draw breath to shout. In that moment Spencer wished with everything he had that he'd already had some flying lessons. If he had, he could've flown him and Sam out of there without hesitation. But he had no idea what to do or how to do it and trying and failing could kill them quicker than these angels could. If it had been just him, he would've tried it, but he wouldn't risk Sam.

Instead, he did the only thing he could do and he shoved Sam behind him, wings out and curled back to protect him as best he could.

It was no use.

These angels were warriors. There were only five of them but those five had far more skill and practice than Spencer had. Hell, _Sam_ had more practice than Spencer did – and neither Sam nor Spencer had an angel blade.

The first blow rocked Spencer back almost into Sam before he steadied himself. The next few came in such quick succession it was all Spencer could do to keep Sam sheltered from it. He heard the hunter shouting behind him and wished he could do anything to stop it. He wanted to scream for Gabriel, but the feel of Famine's influence in him told him that the archangel hadn't yet been able to stop the Horseman and there was no way Spencer was going to distract him from that.

Then something clamped down on the base of one of Spencer's wings and the fledgling found himself face down on the floor as agony ripped its way through him. Something pressed against the side of his neck and he knew a moment of terror when he caught sight of the shiny metal of an angel blade. It pressed in just enough to keep him still.

A loud thud sounded somewhere behind him and he couldn't hold back his cry of "Sam!"

The blade pressed a bit closer against Spencer's neck and he hissed at the pain as it pierced his skin just the slightest bit.

"No." A voice suddenly said. "Don't kill them." All movement in the room stopped. Spencer could hear Sam panting and blessed the fact that the hunter was alive. Then he heard Sam spit out one word that had Spencer's worry skyrocketing. " _Zachariah_."

"That's enough out of you." Zachariah said. There was some strange sound and then a thud that had a small whimper of fear slipping from the fledgling. It sounded far too much like a body hitting the floor. Sam. _Sam_! He wanted to snap and snarl at the angels around them even as the part of him still influenced by Famine wanted nothing more than to curl up and cry out for someone to come and _fix this_.

Feet appeared right in front of Spencer's face. There was a pause and then he heard a chuckle. "Well, talk about a two for one deal. I came for one abomination and found both of them." One of the feet lifted and Spencer grunted as the foot came down against his cheek, turning his head and forcing his face flat against the floor, squished down underneath the shoe. He couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't even try to draw back. The blade was gone but a hand was still firmly pinning the base of his wings. He was trapped.

"Isn't this just interesting?" That voice spoke again. This had to be the one Sam had labeled Zachariah. The one Michael and Raphael were hunting. "I've heard a few rumors but I must say, I expected a bit more. Still, I'm happy enough. I have so many questions for you and I can't wait to get you talking." The shoe pressed down just a little harder until Spencer's cheek was cutting on his teeth, the taste of blood filling his mouth. "You and I, we're going to have so much fun. You're going to tell me _everything_."

The shoe left and Spencer wheezed in a breath, spitting out a glob of blood on the floor.

"Grab them, boys." Zachariah said. "Let's get out of here before the cavalry comes."

For the first time Spencer looked up and was able to clearly see the smug face of the one speaking to him. He glared as he was hauled up to his feet, eyes never leaving the angel. "I won't tell you anything."

"My boy." The angel strode forward, the expression on his face going even more smug than before. "You'll tell me everything. I'm going to have fun prying the answers out of you."

There was no way to block the blow that came. Spencer heard a thud before pain exploded through his head and then he heard nothing more.

* * *

The first thing that Spencer noticed when he came to was a throbbing ache in his shoulders. Not even a second after that came the awareness that he was hanging all of his weight on his arms, his wrists held above his head by a pair of cuffs that were painfully cutting into the skin and making his fingers go numb. How sad was it that he easily recognized the feel of metal cuffs on his wrist before his brain was even fully conscious?

Little snatches of things came back to Spencer with each passing second. As they did, he tried not to groan. They were in so much trouble.

Much as he hated to do it, hated to drag his guardian into this, he was the only one that Spencer could think of to call to. Besides… he had to hope that they'd dealt with Famine. There was nothing inside of Spencer that seemed to still be running off that earlier sensation that Famine had created. That had to mean that Famine was dealt with, which in turn meant that the archangel was probably already back at the room and worried to find them gone and the room torn apart.

The fledgling tried to ignore the pain in his arms – standing up straight and relieving it would only alert anyone nearby that he was awake – and he focused all his energy towards something he hadn't ever really done before. Prayer. _Gabriel, I don't know if you can hear me right now, but Sam and I need you. I messed up. I really messed up. I was trying to keep the demons from getting to Sam and I ended up letting something worse know where we were. Zachariah has us and I don't know where at. Just, please, if you can hear me, I need your help._

There was a moment of quiet and Spencer tried not to feel too disappointed. If Gabriel had been able to hear him and come, he would've. There was no doubt in Spencer's mind about that. He trusted the archangel. That had to mean that wherever Spencer was, it was either warded against prayers, warded against other angels… or something had happened to Gabriel.

The last thought wasn't one that Spencer wanted to entertain. Ever. Gabriel was fine. He just… he had to be.

Just hanging here wasn't going to do anything except make his arms hurt even more. If Gabriel wasn't here to get him out, that meant that Spencer was going to have to figure out a way. He couldn't do that just dangling here and pretending unconsciousness. He needed to 'wake up' and start to figure things out. And he needed to find Sam. The hunter was his responsibility here. It was Spencer's mistake that got them here and he needed to do everything he could to keep Sam safe. That meant getting up, standing on his own two feet, and finding some way to get himself free of the cuffs he was wearing.

Spencer tried not to groan as he pulled his legs in just enough to be able to get his feet under him. His eyes fluttered open at the same time, slow and hesitant from the worry at what he might find.

The very first thing he saw had him sucking in a breath and forgetting all about his aches. Instant relief filled him.

 _Sam_.

The hunter was nearby, tied with a bunch of rope to a support beam that led to the ceiling of… was this a barn? Spencer planted his feet a little better and let his gaze travel over everything a brief look. They were in a giant barn. Sam was tied down to a pole along the side and Spencer – Spencer was hanging from his cuffs on a hook in the middle of the barn. That didn't exactly spell good things for him. _Morgan always says I attract trouble to me_. The inane thought drifted through Spencer's mind and was quickly pushed down. His focus narrowed on the more important things here. Sam.

He looked relatively unharmed. A bruise on his face and some dirty clothes. Otherwise, he didn't seem that bad off. Nor did he seem unconscious. His body wasn't slumped or anything like that.

A second later Spencer was proved right when Sam opened his eyes and those surprisingly clear hazel orbs locked right on Spencer. The minute they landed on him, they lit with relief. "Thank God." Sam breathed out. "You're awake." Underneath it, Spencer could hear the unspoken fear that had him wondering just how touch and go it had been for him while he was out. Had they done something to make Sam afraid that he might not wake up? The thought was chilling.

It was automatic to reassure the other man. Spencer did it without even thinking about it; just as he always did with those he cared about. "I'm all right. A little sore, but all right. Are you okay, Sam?"

The hunter's lips gave a wry twist. "Been better. Not much going on since they tied us up. Things have been pretty silent."

It took a second for Spencer to catch the significant look Sam was giving him and understand what it meant. When he did, he nodded. So Sam's prayers weren't being heard either. That really wasn't good.

What was the plan here? From what he'd heard, Zachariah wanted the apocalypse. He also wanted Sam dead. That was pretty clear after everything with Anna. So why kidnap them both and bring them here? Spencer remembered Zachariah's words _'I have so many questions for you'._ He'd said that he'd heard rumors about Spencer. That would explain why Spencer was here and still alive. But Sam? What did he want with Sam?

The doors at the far end of the barn opened and Spencer straightened up a little more. It seemed he was about to find out.

He didn't flinch as Zachariah came in with two other angels. Those two angels went to stand on either side of Sam, clearly guarding him. But Zachariah strolled right up to Spencer without any hesitance or fear on him. In fact, he was watching him the way one would watch some particularly interesting animal at the zoo. Curious, maybe a little disdainful, but not afraid. Secure in the knowledge that the thing he watched was safely contained behind glass and wouldn't be able to hurt him. That didn't give Spencer much hope. However, the profiler had had plenty of experience in dealing with bullies before the BAU, and plenty more experience since then on how to deal with and handle the most psychotic of Unsubs. This smarmy looking angel in a business suit was going to find that Spencer wasn't an easy nut to crack.

Zachariah stopped about a foot in front of him and hooked his hands into his pants pockets. He stood there watching Spencer, one corner of his mouth curing up. Spencer just stared back. He wouldn't be the one to break the silence. Instead, he took the moment to stare down the angel and look over the wings that looked like they were made of steel and ashes. They were what probably passed for large amongst angels, but Spencer was amused to realize that Gabriel's middle wings were probably larger. Hell, if he was guessing right by looking at his own – which wasn't easy to do without a lot of mirrors – Zachariah's wings were probably about exactly the size of Spencer's middle ones. They were also nowhere near as gorgeous as Gabriel's, or Castiel's. Zachariah had his wings lifted in a display that reeked of arrogance and superiority and yet Spencer wasn't the least bit impressed.

After a moment, the angel finally spoke. "Such an interesting thing you are."

Off to the side, Sam shuffled and strained slightly against his bonds. "What do you want?" The hunter called out.

There was the sound of a blow and then Sam's grunt to clearly let the fledgling know what had just happened. Spencer fought hard to keep his face from showing anything he felt. He held his calm and continued to stare at Zachariah. There was no way he was giving him anything. The angel was testing him, just as any Unsub would, wanting to see how he'd react to his friend in pain. The more they thought it'd hurt him, the more they'd do it. Spencer wouldn't give him the satisfaction of know that he got to him and he wouldn't give them cause to hurt Sam any more than they already were. Keeping his eyes on Zachariah, Spencer made sure his voice was controlled as he called out "Sam, if you don't mind, I think Zachariah and I are going to chat. I'd recommend keeping quiet. They don't seem entirely fond of listening to you speak." _Please, let him understand. Let him get the hint._ He hoped Sam knew him well enough to know that Spencer wouldn't typically be that callous about him being hurt.

Amusement lit Zachariah's eyes. "Aren't you just a smart one."

"It wasn't exactly difficult to figure out." Spencer said. He shifted his weight just enough to ease the ache in his shoulders. His hand moved against the cuffs and something wet and warm dripped its way down his arm. The fact that he was injured wasn't a good sign. The fact that he was injured and his grace wasn't healing it … Spencer didn't want to think about that. It didn't spell out anything good for him.

"What exactly is it you think you know, _child_?"

The way that Zachariah said 'child' carried an edge of disgust to it that made it clear just what he thought of Spencer.

There was only a split second for Spencer to decide how to play this. Just that second to judge what he'd seen from Zachariah and plan out a way to respond to him. Soft and sweet? Sharp and sassy? Confident? Afraid? So many different ways he could do this and only a second to decide.

Spencer let out a breath and let his whole body shift in minute ways. He didn't cower, but he didn't push himself forward either. Everything about his posture showed someone who was far more relaxed than the cuffs he wore would suggest. Spencer wasn't going for one emotion or the other, but a mix of all of the above. A hint of confidence, maybe a little bit of spunk, yet caution as well. This was going to take every ounce of skill that he had if he wanted to keep not only himself but his friend alive.

"I know that you've heard of me." Spencer started out slowly, watching Zachariah's face closely. Unlike Castiel, this angel seemed more connected to his vessel, actually showing a little of his emotions on his face. His wings also showed his emotions, and Spencer made sure to keep an eye on them as well. "I know that you've probably heard rumors the halt to the apocalypse – one that _you_ helped engineer – is somehow connected to me. I know that Michael is trying to find you, and he's not very happy with you right now." Leaning in just a tiny bit, Spencer let the ghost of a smile touch his lips. "I know my family is going to make you suffer for every single mark you put on Sam or I. And, Zachariah? That's not a ploy to keep you from hurting us. That's a simple statement of fact."

His words made Zachariah shake his head. "I can see Gabriel's had quite the influence on you. He always did encourage too much disobedience in the fledglings."

There was no time for Spencer to be surprised that Zachariah knew about Gabriel when they thought that no one did. In a move that was faster than Spencer could see, a fist slammed into his stomach and his legs were almost knocked out from under him. He doubled over as best he could, wheezing through the pain, only to have his chin caught and his face yanked in close to Zachariah's. "Now you listen to me, you pathetic little abomination. Gabriel may tolerate that kind of attitude from you but you damn well better show some respect when you talk to me. I can see his Claim written all over you. I don't know why he was stupid enough to Claim you instead of kill you like the disgusting worm you are, but don't think it gives you any special privilege with the rest of us."

He shoved Spencer back so that the fledgling had to fight just to keep upright. His wrists were jerked against the cuffs and a little more blood slid down his arms. A quick, worried glance up let him notice scratches on the cuffs he hadn't seen before. Not scratches – sigils. Suddenly his inability to heal made a terrifying amount of sense.

"What is it about you?" Zachariah spoke as calmly as if he hadn't just punched and threatened Spencer. He paced away, turning back to look at him curiously. "What is so important about a stain like you that _Gabriel_ would Claim you? Once, he cleansed the Earth of the scourge of nephilim. Has he really Fallen so far in all his years of hiding that he'd actually Claim one instead?" From Zachariah's sleeve slid something long and silver that had Spencer's stomach clenching. The angel strode forward and lifted his angel blade to tap it against Spencer's chest. He still looked just mildly curious. "There's something about you. Strange things seem to be happening around you, if rumors are true. We've got one archangel who Claims you. Rumor has it you're somehow connected to the other two. Are you the reason Michael stopped what we all know was right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The blade cut into Spencer's chest, dragging in a line down to his stomach. He jerked back and tried not to cry out. Off to the side Sam was shouting something and Spencer could hear the blows that silenced the hunter.

Zachariah lifted the now wet blade and tapped the tip against Spencer's cheek. "Hasn't anyone taught you that lying is bad?" The knife trailed down Spencer's throat and he had to bite back any sound is it cut off first one button on his shirt and then the next. Zachariah shook his head and moved on to the next button. "You're going to answer me eventually. How much it hurts in the meantime – well, that's up to you. I have no issue hurting a stain like you." The knife went lower and cut the next button off. "You may have your wings hidden, but you can't hide completely from me." Another button was cut. "I knew Gabriel had Fallen, I just hadn't realized he'd sunk so low as to socialize with a bottom feeding maggot like you."

"Gabriel is better than you can ever hope to be." Spencer swore softly. He knew it wouldn't help matters but he couldn't stop the words. How dare this angel presume to be able to judge Gabriel?

Sure enough, he felt the sharp blaze of the angel blade cutting across his chest. Just barely did Spencer keep any sounds locked inside. He did, however, jerk away from the touch and wince as both blood and light seemed to pour from the cut.

Off to the side, Sam's muffled cries got a little louder.

"Scream all you want." Zachariah smiled at him and trailed his knife once more over Spencer's skin, letting more blood and light pour out. "No one is going to hear you. I've got this place warded so none of your family will be able to even sense us here. You think I don't know how to hide?" Another long cut, drawing a hiss from Spencer. "They won't be coming to save you. I have you here, at my mercy, and you _will_ answer my questions. Or, once I get done playing with you, I'll move on to your little friend over there. He doesn't need to be whole to hand over to Lucifer after all." The angel's smile was sharp and hard and Spencer wondered how the hell anyone could think that angels were the good guys. "Now, let's get started, shall we?"

What came next was something Spencer never wanted to have to experience again. The angel blade hurt like nothing he'd ever known. It sliced through his skin like it was warm butter and painted him and the floor with Spencer's blood. Spencer gave up on holding his screams in when he responded to Zachariah's demands with more silence and found the angel blade sinking into the meat of his thigh. His screams echoed around the barn with the hint of his True Voice to them that was strong enough to shake the rafters. Zachariah just grinned smugly and pressed on.

He wanted to know who Spencer was and what it was that made him so special. He wanted to know how Spencer was connected to the archangels. Though he couldn't explain why, Spencer didn't want to tell him anything. He knew the archangels wanted to keep him a secret, but he also knew that Gabriel would be furious to know that Spencer had taken torture instead of giving in and telling him. His guardian would prefer he give in than go through this. They would all understand. Yet, Spencer said nothing. He refused to tell what he was, refused to tell his connections to them or his part in stopping the apocalypse, and he refused to answer any questions about their plans. No matter how many times that blade slid across his skin, he answered nothing.

A bit broken, bleeding, and so damn exhausted, Spencer hung from his wrists without even the strength to keep his legs under him anymore. His eyes sought out Sam's across the room and he hated the bruises there, hated the moisture he could see building in Sam's eyes. _I'm sorry_ , Spencer thought. _I'm sorry. No one's coming and I don't know how to stop this. I'm sorry, Sam._

His attention was jerked back forward by a blow to the face that had his ears ringing and his face throbbing in a way that made him think his cheekbone might be broken.

Zachariah's hand fisted in his hair and jerked his head back so that the angel could stare down at him. "I'm growing tired of this. Maybe it's time for a bit of new motivations." He sneered at Spencer, looking absolutely furious. Apparently he'd been confident in believing that Spencer would break before this. Still holding the fledgling in place, he called out "Stab the human."

Horror gripped Spencer. "No!" His whole body jerked as if to try and get away and he twisted, wanting to see Sam, _needing_ to see him, but Zachariah's grip prevented it. There was a pained sound and then something wet, something that made Spencer's stomach roll. "No!" Spencer screamed again, his True Voice leaking in once more. "No, Sam! _Sam_! _Al'alihm,_ no, please!"

That froze Zachariah in place. His hand tightened painfully in Spencer's hair. " _What did you call him_?"

Something in Spencer's chest felt like it was breaking. Sam! No, no, no, no! Tears that he'd fought shedding for himself slid out now as he knew, he _knew_ , Sam was dying somewhere off to the side of him. He could _feel_ it. Everything in Spencer was screaming in that moment. For Gabriel, for Sam, for anyone who might be able to help them.

The world around them seemed to suddenly explode in the brightest light that Spencer had ever seen. It blinded him and he saw nothing as the hand in his hair suddenly vanished. There was a sound like music, loud and powerful and just as bright as the light, and so damn furious, yet so beautiful. It filled Spencer's ears and drowned out the sound of his own cries and the pounding of his heart. Without the hand holding him, his body sank down, straining against the cuffs that were the only thing holding him up anymore.

Gentle hands caught his face and Spencer couldn't pull his face back from them.

"Shh." A soft voice whispered, a beautiful melody that seemed to sink straight down into him. "You're going to be all right now. You're safe."

"Sam." Spencer whispered, the word thick in his throat. He still couldn't see, but he tried to turn, tried to find the most important thing in the room.

One of the hands stroked over his cheek while the other slid down, curling around his waist and drawing him in against a firm body. The cuffs released and Spencer found his arms dropping down, tearing a pained cry from his lips. His weight was caught against that body and the arm around his waist held him carefully as they were both lowered down to the ground. "Your _al'alihm_ is safe now. You're both safe and your family will be here soon. Rest now, little one. Just rest."

There was nothing else Spencer could do. The light from before washed over him and he could do nothing to stop himself from sinking down into it until the rest of the world faded away.


	29. Between Hope and Destruction Part 16

_I'm so sorry! I updated this chapter on AO3 and apparently forgot to update it here O.O my apologies on it's lateness folks here it is!_

* * *

Gabriel had known something was wrong since about halfway through their fight with Famine.

As he fought against the demons, and the power that Famine was shoving into the room in the hopes of knocking down Dean, something on the connection that Gabriel shared with his little bird started to buzz at him. Just a general feeling of trouble and fear that made his stomach clench and had him fighting all the harder to get out of there and back to the family that he'd left behind.

Then, as he and Castiel pinned Famine down and Dean cut off the Horseman's ring, Gabriel felt it – a blast of fear stronger than any so far. So strong it almost sent him to his knees. He had to fight to keep a hold of the Horseman long enough for Dean to finish his cut. But as soon as the hunter had the ring, Gabriel was growling "The guys are in trouble!" and snapping them out of there. They could come do cleanup later. Right then he had to get back to his boy and his mate!

He'd known to expect trouble when they arrived. He just hadn't known to expect – _this_.

A sharp breath followed by a string of curses came from Dean. Gabriel just stood silently in the center of the wrecked motel room and stared around him with a growing sense of fear and rage. There were bodies lying on the ground – demons, he could tell. Demons that had been blasted by angelic power. Raw, uncontrolled angelic power. _Spencer's_ , a quick look told him. He knew the look and feel of Spencer's grace and it was all over the dead demons. But more than that, _worse_ than that, was the feel of all the other grace in the room.

"Angels." Castiel breathed out. His wings were shifting and Gabriel could actually _hear_ it as the sound of the seraph's feathers changed from soft to sharp. His grace was reacting to the threat and preparing to do battle. For Spencer and for Sam. The two members of their family who should've been here and who _weren't_.

Dean's eyes snapped to Castiel's face. "Angels? There were angels here?"

"A lot of 'em." Gabriel answered. There had been a whole group of angels here and they'd _taken his fledgling_. They'd taken his fledgling and his mate. Fury filled Gabriel until it was seeping into the air around him, an aura of open threat that he couldn't quite stop. It'd been a long time since he'd felt fear or anger like this. Not since the last time someone had dared to hurt his children. Not even the Wars back home had ever brought on a feeling like this. It was only triggered when someone messed with those that were _his_. His family, his children. And Gabriel didn't give a damn who was responsible for Spencer's birth or what man helped to raise him – Spencer was _his_. They had the fledgling he considered like a son and the man who was Gabriel's other half, a part of him he'd barely begun to embrace and yet knew he couldn't be without. Someone had taken Sam and Spencer from him and when Gabriel found them, he was going to make damn sure they regretted every single moment of it.

A hand on his arm snapped Gabriel out of his thoughts. He jerked his head to the side and glared hotly at the one to dared to touch him. Castiel didn't pull back from the stare, though he lowered his wings in a submissive gesture that soothed just a tiny bit of the fury that was pumping inside of Gabriel.

"Brother, can you sense him at all?" Castiel asked lowly, never raising his voice or allowing any sense of challenge to show there. The little seraph wasn't stupid and he could easily see just how furious Gabriel was in that moment. How close he was to losing control.

It only took a second for Gabriel to reach inside of himself and look deep. There was a vague sense of Spencer in there, as well as a faint hint of Sam – and that was something he'd have to think about later, because, since _when_ had he had some sort of bond or link with Sam? – but nothing that could clue him in to where he was. And he should've been able to tell that. He was _always_ able to find Spencer! "I can't." The words were hard and sharp.

"Who the hell would take them?" Dean demanded. "You don't think…?"

"No." Castiel shook his head, cutting Dean off before he could continue. "This was not Lucifer. I cannot tell which angel – they are well shielded. But we would know if it were Lucifer. All of us would know."

Whatever angel it was, Gabriel was going to make damn sure they paid for it.

"Castiel." Gone was any friendly sound in Gabriel's voice. This was fury, cold and hard, channeled down into the warrior that so few got to see anymore. It'd been a long, long time since Castiel had seen anything close – _never like this_ – and he snapped immediately to attention. Gabriel's gaze was sharp as it cut over to him. "I want you to circle the town, see if you can find any demonic gatherings, any angelic ones, or any trace of a trail. Take everything from the hotel and west. I'll take east. Winchester," Those furious eyes turned to Dean and for once the Winchester didn't even think of arguing with him. "Pray to Michael and let him know what's happening. You're his vessel and he's always tuned in to you. I don't need to chance anyone on angel radio hearing Cas or I. Warn him there's a traitor somewhere who took Spencer and Sam. Then stay here. On the off chance that they return here, I want someone familiar and someone who can fight if need be. Pray to me if there's trouble."

With nothing more than that, Gabriel spread his wings and flew.

* * *

Almost an hour later found them all gathered back in the motel room, this time with Michael, Raphael and Anna there as well. They'd all gathered there in an attempt to try and figure out just who exactly had taken their fledgling and the younger Winchester. That meant they were all together when Gabriel suddenly went still and his eyes went distant.

 _Prayers_.

Sam and Spencer both were praying to him. Both of them. Gabriel closed his eyes and focused intently on what he was hearing. The sound of both their voices was both a reassurance and a frustration. The fact that they could pray to him was a joy – it meant they were alive. But he still had absolutely no idea where they were. He couldn't find them!

Usually the archangel could latch onto a prayer and follow it to the one who was praying to him. The kind of connection a prayer built was enough to counter even the sigils that Castiel had put onto Sam's ribs. Prayer was a powerful thing and when directed to a specific angel it was even more so. It built just a tiny connection between them that an angel could then choose to hold on to and build or ignore. For many, many years Gabriel had simply ignored quite a few of the prayers sent his way. There was no way he could answer them all. Too many people prayed to the archangel Gabriel for him to be able to answer all of them. But there were some he'd listened to. Even if Sam didn't know it, Gabriel had always tried his best to answer the younger Winchester. His prayers were one of the best kind – they came from a soul that wanted nothing more than to help the people around him. He rarely ever prayed for him. Even now, he wasn't praying for help for himself. He was praying for help for _Spencer_.

Hearing Spencer's prayer broke a little part of the archangel inside. Spencer was swallowing the pride that usually prevented him from asking for help and he was actually reaching out to Gabriel in the hopes that he'd be able to save him, and there was nothing Gabriel could do. Nothing! He could only stand there and listen as his little fledgling blamed himself for what was going on and asked him for help. _I'm so sorry, Spencer_ , he thought to himself, hands curling tight into fists against his sides. He could hear Dean demanding to know what's going on and the other angels trying to hush him, but Gabriel paid them no mind. _I'm so sorry, little bird. I'll find you, I swear I will. I'll get you out of there!_

"Gabriel." Michael murmured his name in a gentle tone that Gabriel hadn't heard directed towards him in so, so long. He felt his big brother's hand curl over his shoulder and give a reassuring squeeze.

"I can't find them." Gabriel growled low in his throat. "He has them shielded to well. I can't even get a read on where they are."

One word in that caught Dean's attention. "He? He who? Who the hell has my brother and the Doc?"

This time Gabriel's growl was much, much louder. With his eyes closed, he didn't see the way that Raphael came up to his other side, or how Castiel gently drew Dean back to try and protect the human. Gabriel saw none of that. His attention was inward and his grace was seething right along with him. " _Zachariah._ That son of a bitch has my boys." When his eyes snapped open, they glowed with a light that was both archangel and pagan, an open threat to the one who had dared take what belonged to Gabriel – to _Loki_. "When I get my hands on him, he's going to regret laying a single hand on either one of them."

No one challenged him. They let his threat stand, their silence acting as their agreement.

It was Castiel who finally spoke up. "Can you sense their wellbeing? Or anything about them that might assist us?"

"Sam's worried about Spencer." That much was easy to pick up on. Gabriel lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying _not_ to think about what might've happened to be able to subdue his fledgling and make Sam worry so. "From what they said, demons came here to try and get to Sam, but Spencer fought them off. I'm guessing that something else sensed his power flare and Zachariah showed up. Neither one of them know where they are. But neither one said they were hurt." Not like either one would tell him. Gabriel knew them both well enough to know _that_.

"How can Zachariah hide from all of you?" Dean demanded, looking from one archangel to the next. "You're freaking _archangels_? How the hell can you not find them?"

Raphael sneered and Michael stiffened and straightened while Gabriel turned to glare at the hunter.

Whatever they might've said was cut off when there was suddenly a scream that echoed along 'angel radio' that almost sent them all to their knees. Even Castiel staggered, reaching out to catch himself on Dean and hold himself upright. The three archangels braced against one another as they felt the emotional backlash of a fledgling who had apparently inadvertently managed to tune in to the frequency that all angels broadcast on. Angels were all connected – angel radio, as the Winchesters had dubbed it. They felt the death of each other. The more powerful the angel, the stronger it felt. They also shared emotion across that connection. Spencer, untrained and so damn young, had managed to broadcast to them, obviously without meaning to, and he was so strong and so untrained he wasn't able to keep himself from broadcasting his pain.

"What is it?" Dean looked frantic, his hands already bracing Castiel up, wide eyes darting from one angel to the next. "What's going on?"

"They're hurting him." Castiel moaned out.

It took both Michael and Raphael to hold Gabriel up. The air was crackling and Gabriel knew his grace was pushing out into the room around him. He could feel the buzz against his vessel's skin, both inside and out. The light bulbs in the lamps exploded first, followed by the sound of exploding light bulbs all throughout the rooms around them.

"Brother!" Michael's grip on Gabriel's shoulder tightened and his grace reached out, wings already trying to curl around Gabriel.

The warning went unheeded. Another empathic scream echoed over angel radio and Gabriel snarled, his wings snapping out and his flare of power killing any electronics within a mile of their location. They were hurting him! Spencer was just a damn _child_ and angels – the very beings he _should_ be able to trust – were hurting him!

Angels all over would be feeling this and Gabriel knew he should be concerned about that. Just like he knew he should be concerned about his own display of power that would announce his presence to quite a few. He just didn't give a damn. Somewhere right now his Spencer was being hurt and there was _nothing he could do about it_!

Warm arms and soothing grace wrapped around Gabriel. Not just Michael's anymore – Raphael's now. Despite all the things that still stood between them, his brother showed no hesitation in wrapping around him and holding him tight. "We'll find him." He swore in Gabriel's ear. "We are going to find him, brother."

The next scream was almost too much for Gabriel to handle. If it wasn't for being restrained, he would've been tearing the planet apart to find the one who was making his fledgling scream that way. The only thing containing him was that his brothers were banded together in keeping him here. There was a small part of Gabriel's mind that could see they were both hurt by this as well. It was overshadowed by the part of him that had Claimed Spencer as his. He needed to get to the boy, find him, _help_ him, and he needed to do it NOW.

Then all of a sudden two things happened, one right after the other. The first was a blast of pain over his connection to Sam, one that put him so near death it had Gabriel's grace almost _screaming_ inside of him, and then not even twenty seconds later the connection between Spencer and Gabriel – as well as Sam and Gabriel – went from half formed shadows to full once more and the archangel didn't think about it before he gathered up all the power he could and blasted both his brothers back from him using not just the archangel side but the pagan as well. It only made a moment of weakness but that was enough for him. With a blast that knocked the others back, he was gone, not caring when he sensed them following behind him. He was Dad's Messenger – the fastest in Heaven. No one could outfly him. Especially not when he had such an important goal in mind.

It only took a single second for Gabriel to reach his destination. What he found when he landed was nothing like what he'd expected to see.

There in the middle of some filthy spacious barn were the two people that Gabriel had come for, one kneeling beside the other in a pile of blood that was far more than Gabriel liked to see. What was absolutely stunning, what beat out anything that he'd thought he would see, was the angel that was kneeling there cradling Spencer oh-so-gently in his arms, tattered wings wrapped protectively around the fledgling as he worked to heal him as best he could.

Lucifer.

The sight of his wings was a blow to the center of Gabriel. Once, Lucifer's wings had been the brightest of white, with blue like ice running through them like veins and building up at the tip. Hell had changed that. Where they'd once been white they were now closer to gray, almost like ash had been laid over the white, and the blue looked even colder than before. They were still beautiful, yet so heartbreaking. It was devastating to see just how much damage Hell had done to his brother.

Those wings parted just seconds after Gabriel touched ground. Though Lucifer didn't let go of Spencer, he drew his wings back and made an open space for Gabriel to dart forward and drop down into right at Spencer's hip and beside Sam. The injuries on his fledgling were enough to bring a pained sound from Gabriel's lips. Immediately, Sam moved up against Gabriel's side, and Gabriel wrapped one arm around him even as his other hand reached out to cup Spencer's cheek. He held his whole little family here close to him and watched as the brother he'd least expected to see, the one he would not have pegged as the one to trust, slowly healed the injuries that painted Spencer's body. Judging by the way Sam leaned against Gabriel without any hint of pain it looked like Lucifer had already done other healing as well.

Gabriel felt their other brothers land behind him and he didn't bother looking up. Not even when he felt the charge build in the air that spoke of Michael's temper or Raphael's fear. "Lucifer." Michael hissed out. Even without looking at him, Gabriel knew his oldest brother would be straightening up, adopting that almost military stance that he took in vessels. "Step away from them."

Surprisingly, it was Sam who answered, turning under Gabriel's arm without ever breaking free until he was facing them. Then he held one hand up in a gesture for peace. "Just wait, please. Lucifer's not hurting us."

"This is not up for debate." Michael answered firmly. "Lucifer, _step away from them_."

Their fallen brother didn't even bat a wing at that tone. His grace continued its gentle wash over Spencer's body, slowly sealing up every single wound he came across. They healed slow enough that Gabriel knew they had to have been done by an angel blade. Injuries by angel blade weren't as easy for an angel or angel's vessel to heal from. Someone had tortured his baby boy with a damn angel blade. They'd cut him, _shackled_ him, freaking _stabbed_ him!

There was the sound of movement behind them and Gabriel had only a split second to make his decision. It wasn't a difficult one. He adjusted his weight and snapped his wings out wide on either side of him and let the feathers harden until they formed a protective wall between the trio he knelt with and those behind him. His eyes cut over one shoulder and took in Michael and Raphael. It would seem Castiel and Dean had stayed behind. _I doubt Dean was happy about that_. Gabriel pushed that back and let his grace flash in his eyes. "Stay back." He snarled at his brothers.

"Gabriel!" Raphael hissed. He looked at Gabriel's wings as if he could see through to where Lucifer still knelt and then his gaze snapped back towards the Messenger. "It's Lucifer. _Lucifer_. After all the threats you made before you let me around your fledgling, you're going to just sit there and let him kneel and heel Spencer of something you could just as easily heal him from? You would _trust_ him for that?"

This time Gabriel's snarl was much louder. His eyes flashed darker, the pagan power in him leaking through at the mere suggestion that he wouldn't be doing what was best for _his_ boy. "Their graces are wrapped around each other, you idiot. You're smart enough to know what that means. Spencer let him in, and any attempt I made at pulling them apart could _kill him_ in an instant. You think I'm going to do anything to risk my boy?"

"He saved us." Sam spoke up, pressing himself in against Gabriel. "Zachariah was killing us. They'd already stabbed me and they were going to kill Spencer. Lucifer came in and he… he saved us." Sam sounded stunned by it, but he kept going, his eyes slanting back towards the archangel who had yet to speak. "I don't know how he found us or why he's helping us, but he did.

For the first time since Gabriel had arrived, Lucifer shifted his hold on Spencer and he looked up to flash a small ghost of a smile at Sam that was probably supposed to pass as cold but carried a hint of something fond around the edges. "I will always find you when you are in trouble, Samuel. I felt as soon as you were stabbed and I came immediately. Nothing can tear the connection from archangel to vessel. I felt your soul leaving your body and I followed it and put it back."

"Only because he can't say Yes when he's dead." Raphael spat out.

Lucifer let out a husky chuckle. He surprised Gabriel when he didn't rise to the bail, though. Instead, he focused on pouring the last little bit of grace through Spencer, healing the last of his injuries. Then he began the gentle process of detangling their graces from one another. Gabriel's whole body was tense as he waited until Lucifer's grace finally left the fledgling's body. The instant it did, Gabriel was reaching out for him, and Lucifer was already shifting to hand him over.

Spencer's body felt so small and fragile as Gabriel gathered it up against him. He pulled the fledgling in, holding him close and wrapping around him, body and wings. Sm was included in the embrace, still pressed up against Gabriel's side, right up by Spencer's head. One of his large hands came up and smoothed Spencer's hair gently back from his face. The injuries were gone from the fledgling's body and his grace was low but healing. He was okay. He was alive. He was going to be _fine_. Gabriel let out a shaky breath and bent his head down to press his forehead against Spencer's hair. When he looked up, he knew his eyes were shining and he didn't care to try and stop it. "Thank you."

The light that flashed through Lucifer's eyes was gone too quickly for Gabriel to understand what it was. He did nod, however.

Pulling Spencer in, Gabriel hugged him tightly. Then he looked up at Sam, who was watching them with watery eyes and a shaky little smile, and there was nothing for Gabriel to do but bring a hand up and catch his face and bring him in for a hard and deep kiss that left no doubt whatsoever about how happy he was to have him back. When they broke apart, Gabriel pressed their foreheads together. "You gotta stop doing this to me, Princess. I'm an old angel; I can't take shocks like this."

"You are getting up there in years." Sam teased him, voice only a little shaky. One of his hands had slid up and it was threaded in Gabriel's hair now, gripping at it like he was afraid the archangel was going to fly away.

A low chuckle slipped from Gabriel at the snarky response. He leaned in and nipped at Sam's bottom lip. "Brat."

"You like it."

Gabriel hadn't realized that Lucifer had pulled back from them. Not until the sound of his voice drew Gabriel and Sam both up out of their little cocoon and back to reality. They tilted their heads up and found Lucifer standing by them. Neither had really thought about what the possessive archangel might think of Gabriel blatantly making a move on Lucifer's vessel; the shuttered look he wore didn't seem all that reassuring, though. Just in case, Gabriel used his wings to draw Sam ever so slightly closer.

"Brothers." Lucifer's voice was cool and he was smiling, but Gabriel saw a hint of something more behind it, a flare of worry in his grace that the humans couldn't see. Gabriel wasn't sure if even their brothers saw it. Then it was hidden again and Lucifer's smile turned to a mocking sort of smirk. "I think it might be time for us to have a talk."

In that moment Gabriel made a split second decision. "We can go to one of my places." He wouldn't take them to his island home, not the one that he and Spencer shared that had become an actual home instead of just another house. But he had another island house and this one would keep them far from humanity while they had their 'talk'.

"Gabriel!" Raphael hissed out.

Gabriel ignored him, fixing Lucifer with a stare instead, letting his power flare behind his vessel's eyes. "Don't make me regret this, Luci. I owe you for helping Sam and Spencer but that won't stop me if you try anything."

His brother nodded at him. "I would expect nothing less, little brother."

There was only a moment more of hesitation. Then Gabriel gathered his power, lifted his hand, and snapped.


	30. Between Hope and Destruction Part 17

Spencer woke to the sound of voices shouting somewhere above his head.

It was like some badly orchestrated symphony playing around him. Sounds that would've been beautiful together felt raw and off key as they screeched back and forth at one another, sometimes overlapping, a cacophony of noise that grated on his ears and had his expression tightening. Someone needed to make it stop. Sweet merciful Heaven, someone needed to _make it stop._

Immediately all sound stopped. Spencer only had a moment to be grateful before there was a hand on his forehead and he felt Gabriel's grace brush up against his. There was a wealth of love in that touch and something else that felt life a taste of fear that was being overwhelmed by wave after wave of relief. His voice, though, was calm when he spoke, and full of affection. "Projecting pretty loudly there, little bird."

Huh? Furrowing his brow, Spencer tried to puzzle it out. Then he gave it up for lost. His brain felt fuzzy and, oddly enough, so did his grace. He made a soft mewling sound that he'd later deny and rolled himself towards where he could feel the heat of Gabriel's grace and his vessel. A hand caught him and then he felt a wing as well, bracing him and holding him in place. "Woah there, kiddo. You're gonna roll right off the couch if you keep that up."

Spencer made that same little sound again and tried to press forward. His body wouldn't move, so he reached out with grace instead, wanting nothing more than to curl up right against Gabriel.

He heard what sounded like laughter around him and he could feel affection and amusement twining together in a familiar combination in Gabriel's grace. "All right, all right. Hold your horses there, Sparrow." Then, without giving Spencer a chance to respond, he was being picked up. It only took a second for Spencer to find out why. Gabriel was suddenly _right there_ and Spencer made a happy sound as he was set in what felt like the archangel's lap. He curled himself in and burrowed as close against his father figure as he could. His arms felt like lead, yet he lifted one enough to slip it under Gabriel's jacket and reach in, curling his fingers around his side.

The sound of feathers and a familiar sensation of safety told him that wings had been curled around him.

"Uh..." Someone nearby cleared their throat. "Is he okay?"

That voice sounded familiar. Spencer's muzzy mind took note of that but dismissed it as unimportant. Gabriel was here. He'd keep Spencer safe.

"He's fine." Another voice answered, low and cold like the slide of ice under his feet. "His vessel and grace were damaged. Though healed, it will take a bit for him to fully recover. In the meantime he's reverted to a more natural state for his age."

"Fledglings seek contact when they're young. They seek it for just about everything, but especially if they're upset or hurt." Another voice said.

There were too many voices. Spencer grumbled and pressed his face in closer until it was half hidden under Gabriel's jacket. Why did there have to be so much noise? He just wanted to sleep.

Gabriel pulled him in closer, making it easier for Spencer to get his other arm under Gabriel's jacket as well. Stupid jacket was annoying, in the way of reaching Gabriel, but now that Spencer was under it, it was kind of nice. Like a blanket he could hide in. This was perfect. Or, almost. His _ol'alihm_ was right here holding him close, but where was his _al'alihm?_ Wasn't he… Memories tried to creep in and Spencer furrowed his brow for a different reason now. There had been… something. Something...wrong. Hadn't there? _Al'alihm,_ he'd been… he was in danger. _Hurt._

A soft brush of grace against the edge of Spencer's startled him. He didn't yank away, some part of him recognizing this touch even if he couldn't put a name to it. He _knew_ it. "Your _al'alihm_ is fine, little one." That cool voice told him. It was less ice this time – more snow, soft and yet still cool.

"His _what_?" A voice shouted, right at the same time that Spencer felt a flare of grace in the room and another voice growling out " _Get away from him._ "

That other grace started to pull away, a hint of sadness touching its edges along with something that tasted old and bitter and broken. Spencer couldn't help himself; he reached his own grace back out and grabbed on, much like a child grabbing on to the wrist of an adult. He felt that other grace go still under his touch. Then, hesitantly, it reached back, and Spencer sighed happily. He didn't want that grace to go. He wasn't sure why, he just knew he didn't want it to go. He liked having it there. Faint memories tickled at his mind of this grace being there before. Of it wrapping around him, brushing inside of him – helping, healing. _Safe_ , his own grace whispered.

A soft exhale from Gabriel brushed across Spencer's hair. "Well would you look at that?" he said lowly. Spencer tilted in, trying to figure out if maybe there was something wrong. Was Gabriel upset with him for reaching out? But Gabriel's hand stroked over his back before he could really begin to worry and his guardian hurried to reassure him. "It's fine, little sparrow. You're fine."

That other grace brushed over his, not trying to dislodge his hold, simply reassuring him that it was there. "Samuel." That cool voice said again. "You should join them. It's you that he's looking for. Part of him remembers you being in danger and seeks to reassure himself that his _al'alihm_ is okay."

"Dude, we aren't taking orders from you." A gruff voice grumbled. "An I'm not letting Sammy anywhere _near_ you."

Spencer felt the grace he held give a little ripple of annoyance. "Watch your tone with me, _human_."

The body under Spencer's went tense and he felt arms and wings curl tighter around him, holding him in place. "Stop it, all of you." Gabriel's voice rang out with an edge Spencer didn't usually hear there. It was angry, yet tinged with a sadness that was as old as time. "You can all stow your crap for five damn minutes or I'm kicking every single one of you out of here. I don't care about any of your bullshit right now."

"Gabriel…"

"Don't you 'Gabriel' me, brother. This is my house and you can all either keep your cool or get the hell out."

The temper in the room was climbing and Spencer's brain and grace both seemed to be waking up a little more underneath the feeling of it. That muzzy sensation was starting to fade away and memories were slipping in little by little. He didn't notice how his body tensed or how the room suddenly went quiet. _Oh, God_ … Spencer felt like he was going to be sick. He and Sam, they'd been stuck in the motel room, waiting for the others to get back from fighting Famine. And there…there were demons. He'd had to fight demons. Then…angels. _Zachariah_. _An old bar. Sam, tied up off to the side. Spencer's wrists held above his head in cuffs that suppressed his grace._ Oh, God, Zachariah had had them. He'd had Spencer and Sam and he'd been questioning them. _Torturing him_. And Sam…Zachariah had told them to stab Sam!

Panic filled Spencer had he could feel his grace pushing out from it, flooding into the room around him without any sense of control. His whole body was locked down tight and his wings were out, trying to curl in around him, the fear and pain that he'd fought so hard not to feel before now crashing down in on him as the memories burned their way through his mind and the remembered pain seared at his grace.

Strong arms held him tightly and Spencer felt a familiar grace gathering around him and pulling him in. Someone was shouting – more than one someone – and Spencer knew that he should pay attention, that he should try and stop this, but he couldn't. A painful cry ripped its way up Spencer's throat and rang through the room with the echoes of his True Voice.

 _Spencer_ , a voice called to him, pushing against his grace. _Spencer, sweetheart, come back to me. It's okay. You're okay._

Another grace tried to reach in and help and Spencer almost screamed at its touch, shoving himself away, pushing tighter in against Gabriel. _Make it stop_! Part of him screamed. _Make it stop, please! Please!_

There was a sharp shout and then that grace withdrew. But there was another there, one that Spencer had been clutching to, and it hesitantly pushed in. When Spencer didn't fight it, it wrapped more around him, brushing against not just his but Gabriel's as well. There was only a brief hesitation before Gabriel's grace allowed it in and the two sort of merged together before wrapping even more tightly around Spencer. Instead of feeling smothered, he felt safe and sheltered. Protected. There, contained by two that Spencer knew would keep him and everyone around him safe, the fledgling stopped trying to fight. A sob broke free past his lips and Spencer just let go.

* * *

The whole room watched quietly as Spencer broke apart in front of them. Gabriel had sensed it the instant that the memories had started to come back and he'd tried to prepare for what it would do to the fledgling. Spencer seemed like he was emotional enough on his own, though he'd learned the heartbreaking lesson on how to keep everything locked inside. But this? This was an assault against the very core of his being. Zachariah had held him and tortured him. He'd cut into the grace of a _child_. No matter how grown up the human side of Spencer was or how in control that part of him was, it couldn't win out against the all-encompassing pain and grief of the child inside of him. With his walls already low, Spencer couldn't control the fledgling part of himself.

It ripped at Gabriel to listen to his boy's sobs and to feel the pain inside of his grace. This was for more than just Zachariah, he knew. That had been the catalyst but this was something that had been building for a while. Spencer had gone through far too much even in the short time that Gabriel had known him. He'd had to deal with way more than any fledgling ever should have to. More than any human, either.

Michael and Raphael both stood off to the side, obviously wanting to help and just as obviously afraid to try. When Michael had tried to reach out to help Gabriel contain Spencer's grace once it started to leak out of him, the boy had reacted so violently that Michael didn't dare to try again and neither did Raphael.

What stunned them all was that Spencer was allowing _Lucifer_ to help.

It'd been amazing enough before when Spencer had reacted positively to him, reaching out and pulling Lucifer back in even as Michael had been snapping at him to get away. But now, at his absolute lowest, he hadn't fought Lucifer's touch. He'd let it in. What else could Gabriel do but allow his brother in as well? There was nothing and no one more important to Gabriel than Spencer. If his fledgling wanted Lucifer here, than Lucifer was going to be here. He'd already proved that he cared about Spencer.

Gabriel faintly heard the low murmur of Castiel's voice over the sound of Spencer's cries. What he heard had him wanting to thank the seraph profusely. Castiel was gathering up everyone and moving them outside. It wasn't much, but at least it would give the illusion of privacy for Spencer. Once the kid became coherent again he was going to hate just how vulnerable he'd allowed himself to be. Having an audience there was only going to make it worse.

In short order everyone was outside of the house – even Michael and Raphael. Michael stayed close; not that Gabriel had expected otherwise. The oldest of them wasn't going to leave them entirely unsupervised with Lucifer present. But, honestly? Lucifer was the least of Gabriel's concerns.

Gabriel looked up over the top of Spencer's head and watched his brother. It was a slightly stunning image to see; the Morningstar, the one who had sworn never to kneel to humans, never to love them the way Father had commanded, was kneeling there on the ground in front of the couch, one hand on Spencer's back and the other on his leg, watching the little fledgling with so much open concern on his face. It was a look Gabriel hadn't seen there in a long, long time, not since long before this war had first started. Lucifer had always cared about the fledglings in his own way. A lot of them had been in awe of him, not quite able to play with him the way they liked to do with Gabriel, but he'd cared about them all the same. He was the one who had helped to teach Gabriel to fly. He was the one who had cradled Gabriel to him a few times and soothed him down after Gabriel had been caught in the middle of one of Michael and Lucifer's fights, that same look of worry on his face back then as there was now. To see it directed towards Spencer was just….Gabriel didn't know how it made him feel.

" _I will not harm him._ " Lucifer said lowly, his words pitched quiet and in Enochian to make them private between the two, an attempt not to disturb the still crying child.

There was a promise in them that Gabriel couldn't deny. Lucifer hadn't hurt Spencer so far and he'd made it very clear in many ways that he didn't plan to in the future either. " _It would be the last thing you ever did._ " Gabriel vowed.

Lucifer gave a small nod, his understanding and acceptance of the promise Gabriel had just made.

Little by little, Spencer lost power to his cries, his tears finally running their course. The two archangels held him and kept him contained inside of his vessel until, after almost ten straight minutes of crying, the boy cried himself out. Gabriel and Lucifer both drew their graces back just a bit, though not completely. They didn't have to contain Spencer anymore but neither one of them seemed willing to withdraw their protection completely. It kind of surprised Gabriel, honestly, to see how Lucifer was acting. This was so strongly reminiscent of the brother he had once known. It made his grace ache to have that brother back again.

The feeling of fingers in his feathers drew Gabriel's thoughts away from his brother and back down to the boy that he was holding. Spencer was still buried against him, still exhausted, but now that the grief and heartache had run their course, it left room for the embarrassment to kick in. Even as it did, part of Spencer still sought out contact – comfort. For him that seemed to be Gabriel's wings. The archangel had noticed how Spencer would play with his feathers when upset or worried or anything like that. Now was no different. Thin fingers threaded between feathers, just sitting there. Really, it was a comfort for them both. Never again did Gabriel want to have to feel the fear that had struck him when Spencer and Sam were missing, nor the pain he'd felt as Spencer had broadcast over angel radio.

Against his chest Gabriel heard the low murmur of Spencer's voice; just one single word. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Gabriel said immediately.

"I didn't mean to freak out on you. I just…I don't know."

It was Lucifer who spoke up first, before Gabriel got the chance. "I'd say that you earned it, little one."

Gabriel watched as Spencer blinked a bit in surprise at the second voice. He turned his head away from Gabriel just enough to be able to look over and see who was talking to him. The trickster would've been lying if he'd said he didn't like that Spencer didn't pull away from him or even try to untangle himself. Having the fledgling up against him was the only thing that was keeping Gabriel from having a freak out of his own.

For a moment Spencer just stared at Lucifer and Gabriel waited with bated breath. After a pause, the fledgling shifted a little more, turning just a bit more towards the other archangel. He tilted his head a little and Gabriel could feel him thinking. "You're Lucifer." Spencer finally said. It wasn't a question - it was a statement, colored slightly by surprise.

Lucifer tilted his own head as well and met Spencer's gaze without flinching. "Indeed."

"You're the one that saved Sam and I, back at that barn. I remember that. It was your grace I felt."

"It was."

The two stared for a moment longer. Gabriel waited, feeling like he was witnessing something big here, something that was teetering on the edge of a knife. Whichever way it went was going to make a big difference on their future. If Spencer wanted nothing to do with Lucifer, it would be hard to get anyone else to agree to have him around - Gabriel included. Convincing the kid of something he didn't want to do was something that Gabriel knew would be almost impossible. Spencer was too silently stubborn.

He should've known the kid would continue to surprise him.

After another long pause, Spencer gave a small nod. "Thank you. You saved Sam's life, and I'm pretty sure you saved mine as well."

The ghost of a smile touched Lucifer's lips. "It was my pleasure, young one."

"Spencer. My name's Spencer." The kid introduced himself quietly. Spencer's wing reached out, hesitantly brushing against Lucifer's in a gesture that had the other archangel actually flinching a little. Not out of dislike, but what Gabriel could see was shock. It'd been a long time since someone had offered that gesture to Lucifer. It choked Gabriel up a bit to see his fledgling be the one to do so.

When Spencer drew back, unsure, Gabriel sent a soothing wave of grace to him, trying to reassure him it was nothing he'd done. He thought he sensed a bit of understanding in Spencer after a second.

"Where is everyone?" Spencer asked, switching the subject. He looked around with tired eyes. "Didn't I hear them earlier?"

"They gave us a moment." Gabriel answered.

He felt Spencer's embarrassment increase a little. The kid didn't like showing off his emotions, especially not that drastically or in front of other people. He pushed it down, though. "We should call them back in. I want to know what I missed before I start to," A yawn broke in and Spencer chuckled when it was done. "Before I fall asleep, apparently. I'm tired."

"It's to be expected. Healing takes a lot out of you. Your grace was already low before I tried to heal it." Lucifer told him.

Thinking of that only reminded Gabriel of what had happened to his kid to begin with, and that had his arms tightening around Spencer briefly.

Gabriel reached out with his grace to let his brothers know that it was time to come back in.

Time to get this conversation started. They had a lot to talk about and there was no putting off most of it. His eyes met Lucifer's over top of Spencer's head and he found himself hoping that things went the way he hoped they would. The way that Lucifer was looking down at Spencer, it brought up so many old memories, reminding Gabriel of a time before his brother had become 'the devil'. Selfishly, he wanted to do anything he could to get that brother back.


	31. Between Hope and Destruction Part 18

To say the air in the room was tense would've been an understatement.

All of the key players in the apocalypse were gathered in a living room that had seemed so much larger only moments before. With all these beings packed into one space it felt rather small and confining. The tension was palpable; like some living, breathing entity that sat in there with them. Spencer wished he could figure out a way to ignore it or break it somehow. Yet he feared what breaking it would cause. All it would take was one spark to ignite this.

Even finding seating wasn't done easily. Spencer wanted his family around him – Sam, Gabriel, Dean, Castiel – but he also wanted Lucifer close for some reason. The hunters most definitely did _not_ want Lucifer close, but they wanted to be by Gabriel and Spencer. Castiel, who was here at Dean's insistence, was keeping quiet yet also close to the humans. Raphael seemed to want to be on the sidelines, while Michael looked like he wanted nothing more than to stand guard between Lucifer and everyone.

It was Gabriel who finally had enough of it and snapped at everyone to find a seat before he found one for them.

They ended up with Gabriel and Spencer staying in their corner of the couch, Spencer still on Gabriel's lap, and Sam sitting down next to them. Dean, of course, took the seat next to Sam, leaving Castiel perching awkwardly on the armrest. Michael and Raphael each had chairs off to the side and Lucifer chose to stay on his feet, leaning against a far wall that kept him a good distance away from everyone.

 _If it was this hard just to figure out how to sit down so we can talk, how on earth are we going to manage the rest of it?_ Spencer wondered. He had a feeling they'd be lucky to get out of this without some kind of fight.

Dean was the one to start things off. It wasn't surprising, really. The hunter was obviously stressed and one thing Spencer had learned about both Winchesters was that they tended to respond to stress with either temper or silence – both were equally dangerous. A silent Winchester wasn't to be underestimated. "I wanna know what the hell happened back there." Dean demanded. "An why the hell freaking _Lucifer_ is here." He shot a look at Spencer and the fledging caught the thought underneath all that, the one he probably wasn't supposed to hear. _And since when is Doc buddy-buddy with the devil of all creatures?_

"We explained to you what happened." Michael answered.

"Yeah, but no one said _how_ exactly Lucifer managed to get in there and find them." Dean said. He sat forward, arms on his knees, and glared at Lucifer in a way that Spencer couldn't help think was utterly stupid. It was as if the man had no idea of self-preservation. Then again, Spencer had seen a lot to suggest that. Dean tended not to think about himself when it came to protecting his brother.

But Lucifer just looked amused by the impudent human in front of him. He had his arms crossed over his chest and grinned in a way that made Spencer think of Loki. "You think I can't find my vessel when someone kills him?"

That froze Dean in place. Apparently they'd told him Sam had been hurt – not that he'd been killed. Beside him, Sam shrunk back a little, determinedly looking anywhere but at Dean. Spencer fought back a little swell of both nausea and grief. He could hear Zachariah's voice in his head, telling the others to stab Sam, and he could remember the fear he'd felt. The all-consuming terror as he realized that they were going to kill Sam and there was nothing he could do about it. Some of what he was feeling must've leaked a bit, at least to Gabriel, because his guardian rubbed lightly at where he was holding on to Spencer's hip. It soothed Spencer at the same time that it had him noticing just how closely they were still wrapped together. No one else seemed to care about it, but it didn't stop Spencer from flushing a little or shuffling like he might shift away. Gabriel just tightened his grip and kept Spencer in place.

Dean blew out a breath and shuddered slightly. "Sam _died_."

"Indeed he did. I brought him back." Lucifer lifted his eyebrows and fixed them with a cool stare when no one said anything. " _You're welcome._ "

"What do you even care about all this?" Raphael demanded, temper and fear both easy to read in the way he held his wings up, like he was trying to be confident, yet tucked in close, a protective gesture.

"I knew what it was I was seeing the instant my eyes fell on the child." Lucifer looked over at Spencer, who was still curled up in Gabriel's wings, and there was something about his eyes that almost seemed to soften. Spencer wasn't quite sure if he was actually seeing it before it was gone again and that cool humor was back in its place. "I know what his existence means. Did you really think I would simply stand by and do nothing?"

Great. Yet another person who knew Spencer's supposed 'destiny' or whatever. Spencer's stomach twisted a little. He drew his own wings in, curling them tight. Unconsciously his fingers tightened in the grip they had on Gabriel's jacket.

No one else seemed to notice his distress. They were all watching Lucifer.

"Well, yeah." Dean said bluntly in answer to the archangel's question.

Lucifer shook his head and looked at Dean almost pityingly. "Your human mind is so… limited. Why would I stand by and allow a prophecy to come to bear that destroys everything as we know it? That means Earth, Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, all of it."

"Isn't that what you want?" Raphael asked scathingly.

"I want the infestation of humans gone from my Father's creation."

It was more than that, though. Spencer could see it in his eyes and in his grace. It was something that he'd felt before while they were touching and something he could still see now in the slight sense of longing as those icy eyes drifted over them all. Lucifer wanted to come _home_. That was what sat at the center of all of this. The fallen archangel wanted to be home. To have a family again. He just didn't trust any of them enough for it. And that – that made Spencer grieve for him.

"What about the apocalypse?" Sam asked, bringing everyone's attention to him. The hunter was surprisingly calm considering what had happened to him. His eyes were steady as they focused directly on the devil that had caused him so much grief and stress. "You're talking about helping us, but what about the apocalypse? What about this giant fight you're supposed to have with your brother?"

The whole room went quiet as Michael and Lucifer looked directly at one another for the first time since this whole conversation had started. There'd been no doubt before that the two had been paying attention to one another; it was something like the way a person would pay attention to a dangerous animal nearby. Watching them without ever making direct eye contact. Now, though, they looked at one another, and that tension that Spencer had been feeling before was only growing worse. Even Gabriel was going tense, obviously preparing for trouble.

However, Michael stunned them all.

"This is bigger than us." Michael said slowly, each word carefully chosen. His eyes never left Lucifer. "Our fight may be destined, but we both know this is bigger. It takes precedence over _everything_. If we don't stop this, there'll be nothing left of any of us. It'll take us all out."

The room went quiet again and Spencer watched the two stare at one another. There were so many ways this whole conversation could go right now and Spencer didn't know why they were dragging this out this way when they all knew what the answer would be – what it had to be.

Eventually Lucifer broke the quiet. "My vessel won't survive that long." His eyes slanted over to the couch for just a half a second, long enough to set everyone on edge.

"You're not getting Sammy." Dean snapped.

Gabriel held up a hand before that argument could even get going. "Won't be necessary. I was prepared for this. I've got one premade, just like I had for Mikey. Same rules apply, though. You'll have the power you have now, bro, only you'll have a body that won't burn away."

"The question here should not just be if Lucifer is willing to fight." Castiel interjected, surprising some of the angels. Spencer looked over at his brother and watched as Castiel straightened up and refused to cow before beings that it was programmed into him to listen to and obey. The brave little seraph sat there with his human at his side and dared to look at them all as if they were equals; it made Spencer a little proud of him. "The question should be whether or not we trust to have him at our sides. How do we know he won't turn on us? Or that he won't wait until the upcoming war is over and then return to his own fighting?"

"We trust Michael and Raphael." Spencer felt compelled to point out. "What's the difference?"

Spencer's words had most of the room going quiet. All eyes turned to him and Gabriel went completely still underneath him. Michael looked like he'd been slapped. "I beg your pardon?"

It seemed sort of obvious to Spencer. Yet the stares of everyone had him shifting a little uncomfortably. He pushed up a little from Gabriel's side, his chin going up a bit in determination. He had the right to voice his opinions just like the rest of them. His exhaustion and the support that Gabriel always seemed to give him helped Spencer have the courage to keep talking. "It's not like any of you love humanity like your Father commanded. Mud monkeys, you call us. You look down your noses at us like we're inferior. Like we're worse than dirt under your shoes. Is that how you love something?" When no one said anything, Spencer shrugged. "Honestly, the only difference I've seen in his opinions compared to other angels is that Lucifer's more vocal and proactive about what he believes." Warming up to his subject, one that he'd given great thought to the more that he'd gotten to know angels, Spencer sat up the rest of the way, now mostly balanced on Gabriel's one thigh. His hands got into it as he spoke. "Granted, the things he's done haven't all been good – he's made serious mistakes. But ask yourself how many angels have done just as bad, or worse, since then. How many angels have become exactly what Lucifer was? Yet I see no cages for them. They're allowed to roam free, to bring about the destruction of the earth simply because they care more for your fight than for beings they consider far lesser than themselves."

"Are you saying we should just forgive Lucifer's crimes?" Michael demanded.

Spencer didn't cower from him. He shrugged one shoulder in an almost negligent way. The logic of this was so obvious to him it was hard to see that it wasn't the same to others. "I'm saying that punishment should be equal. If you're going to punish him for what he's done, others who have done the same should be equally punished. If they're forgiven, why not him? Why are his crimes the only ones worthy of eternity in a cage, of endless torture, of exile from everything and everyone he's ever loved? Why is he tortured to the brink of insanity for not liking humans and being brave enough to speak his mind, while cowards run around Heaven preaching the same byline?"

"You have no right to question our Father." Michael straightened up, a furious general addressing his troops, every inch of him showing his rage. "His judgment is absolute."

The whole room went silent when Spencer calmly said "His judgment was wrong."

Gabriel grabbed for Spencer and even Sam stretched out, but they weren't fast enough to stop it as Spencer went flying off of Gabriel's lap and across the room to slam into a nearby wall. He crashed into it hard enough to shake the house around them. The archangel strolled towards Spencer and the very air seemed to crackle around him. "How dare you?"

In a flash everyone else was moving. Spencer heard Gabriel's furious shout of "Michael!" at the same time that other voices were shouting as well.

Gabriel was there at Spencer's side, hands quickly catching hold of him and pulling him up while also checking him over for injuries. Castiel, Spencer could see, had Sam and Dean protected against one wall, while Lucifer and Raphael were both standing on the sidelines, the two of them seemingly stunned.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Gabriel demanded, glaring at Michael even as he pulled Spencer up. His wings clearly kept Spencer sheltered and slightly behind him no matter how much Spencer tried to push forward. They were also lifted in a display of temper that was more than the fledgling had ever seen on Gabriel before. "You don't touch him, Michael. I don't care how much he upsets you – you don't touch him." The words were imbued with so much threat it was enough to make even Spencer shiver.

"You are far too indulgent, Gabriel. Your _child_ ," Michael spat out the word, mouth twisted into a furious snarl, "seems to think he knows better than our Father. This tiny little infant actually dares to question Him. Someone needs to correct him since you obviously don't. This is blasphemy! Who do you think you are, Spencer Reid, to act as if you know better than He does?"

Spencer leaned against Gabriel only briefly until his feet were settled. Then he was squaring his shoulders and refusing to back down before Michael. Even if he had to speak from the shelter of Gabriel's wings, he was going to say his piece.

What he said next stunned the room. "Tell me, Michael – do you love humanity? Do you love these humans more than your Father? Do you care for them? Watch over them? _Respect_ them?" One corner of Spencer's mouth quirked up in a grin that he had to have picked up from his time with Gabriel. It was sad and just slightly mocking; the grin that the trickster wore when hiding his own pain. Something far older than Spencer shone in his eyes in that moment. A heritage he didn't know of lit him from the inside out and gave his words a weight that took away any sort of argument anyone might've had. "Humans are nothing more than insects to you. Tools to be picked up and used and then discarded. Your Father bade you love them, and you knelt down as told, yet show me where that love has been. What have you done that shows your love for humanity? I won't say that what Lucifer did was right. We all know that it wasn't. But I will say that you should look a little closer at your own actions and the actions of those around you before you start casting judgment. If you believe so strongly that God was right in punishment, that Lucifer truly deserved what was given to him, then maybe you should've made the Cage just a little bigger, because there are quite a few others who should be in there as well. Or are you all that much more special that you get to have the chance at redemption while he doesn't?"

There was absolute silence in the room. The kind of silence in which one could've heard a pin drop. The one who looked the most stunned, however, was Lucifer. He was staring at Spencer with the most emotion that any of them had seen on his vessel's face this whole time.

It was getting harder to stand here and keep his chin up. The power that Spencer had felt inside of him seemed to be wavering and he leaned a little more heavily against Gabriel.

That was all it took to snap Gabriel out of it. "That's enough." He said flatly. He used his middle wing to actually scoop Spencer up, lifting him up off the ground and drawing him in. It had to look strange to the humans and Spencer would've wondered about that at any other time. Right then, he was just… he was too tired. Luckily, he didn't have to worry about any of it. Gabriel had it all under control. He kept Spencer close as he spoke to the others. "We've had enough. It's been a damn long day and my boy's been hurt – the last thing he needs is to stand down here arguing with you all. I'm taking him upstairs and putting him to bed. If you're all still here in the morning, we can talk then. But he needs his rest."

Without waiting for anyone to say anything else, Gabriel pulled Spencer in close, taking hold of him with his arms now, and Spencer was whisked away before anyone could get the chance to speak.

For a long moment everyone watched the space where the two had just been. The words Spencer had said hung heavy in the air around them. No one could forget them. There'd been too much weight to them to ever be forgotten.

"I think it's safe to say one thing." Sam said slowly, eyes on the stairs where the two had just vanished. "Biological or not, Gabe's his father. Because I'm pretty sure that was a hint of a Message we just got." The way he said it made the capital on Message clear to them all.

No one could argue that. Either Gabriel truly was Spencer's father, or God had recognized the Claim on him, because only the child of the Messenger could've delivered a Message like that.

* * *

Gabriel didn't leave Spencer's side that night. He was there when he tucked his fledgling into bed, neither one of them quite wanting to let go of the other after everything that had happened. He was there when nightmares woke Spencer more than once through the night and had him shooting up in his sleep, a scream caught in his throat. And he was there in the morning when Spencer woke up again. Seeing him sitting against the headboard, book in hand, was a surprisingly soothing sight. Spencer didn't even comment on the fact that Gabriel must've sat up watching him sleep most of the night, because this was the same position he'd been in when Spencer had fallen asleep. All the fledgling felt was gratitude.

It was strange to think that a few short months ago he would've been terrified to wake up and find someone in his bed. Now, he simply pressed himself closer, cuddling up until he could pillow his head just above Gabriel's hipbone. He buried his face in against the trickster's shirt and breathed in the toasted sugar smell that sat there. Gentle fingers began to card through his hair.

"I'm sorry we didn't find you faster, Sparrow." Gabriel said softly, after the silence had begun to stretch out.

Tilting his head in, Spencer nuzzled a little at Gabriel's shirt. "I knew you'd come."

"Still – I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"You're here now." To Spencer, that said it all. Gabriel may not have been the one to bust in and save him the way he obviously wanted to, but he was here now and for Spencer that meant more than anything else in the world. Heroics were one thing; it was what happened after that mattered the most. Working at the BAU had meant that Spencer had been in plenty of dangerous situations where someone had needed to come in and save him. Most recently – Georgia. He'd been saved before and, yes, he always appreciated it. But what he'd never had, what he'd always secretly and desperately wanted, was someone to be there after. Someone to hold him through the nightmares and be there for him, without him having to ask. He'd wanted someone who would look past the mask he put up and see that he really needed them despite whatever protests he made.

Gabriel had done that. He hadn't even given Spencer a choice on it. He'd just been right here in bed with him all night long. That, more than anything else, meant the world to the fledgling.

He knew Gabriel had to have heard all those thoughts and followed along with them in Spencer's head. He gave him a soft squeeze, pushing love over to him with his grace, and Spencer melted happily into it all.

They lay there for a little while long before Spencer broke the silence again. "What happened to Zachariah?"

"Luce killed him." Gabriel's voice was flat and with a hint of power underneath that reminded Spencer just how dangerous he could be. He sounded pleased by the idea that Zachariah was dead, yet at the same time almost annoyed. Spencer wondered if it was because he had wanted to do it himself.

Speaking of Lucifer reminded Spencer of his presence, though, and everything that had happened yesterday after he'd been rescued. Gabriel must've realized what he was thinking about because he scratched lightly at Spencer's scalp and reassured him before he could even ask. "Everything's fine, little bird. The humans are still sleeping, Cassie's in there with them, Anna's being smart and staying away until this is resolved, Mike and Raf are outside whispering up a storm, and Luce is…" Gabriel paused, and then humor laced his tone. "…draped over my couch reading my books it looks like."

"He's not what I pictured he'd be like." Spencer admitted quietly.

He felt Gabriel chuckle a little. "Yeah, I bet. No devil horns." The archangel laughed outright when Spencer shoved at his leg. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what you meant. Calm down, Sparrow." Still chuckling, he went back to playing with Spencer's hair. "He's not quite what I expected, either. He's… different. But he's also still the same. I saw him with you, kiddo. That guy? That was the brother I knew. That's who he was when everything was good."

"He felt safe." Spencer murmured. He rubbed his cheek against the material of Gabriel's shirt and tried not to think of how he'd felt hanging from those shackles. Instead, he focused on the light that came after, the one that he'd gripped at later. "He was cold, but he felt… nice. Safe. And so bright."

"The Morningstar."

"His grace was beautiful."

"You see parts of him I don't think anyone else has seen for a long, long time, little bird." Gabriel said, voice soft. There was a hint of wonder, too. "I never expected you to stand up for him the way that you did. The things you said… those were some pretty big words."

They had been. Here, in the light of day, Spencer was slightly flustered by what he'd dared to say, and by who he'd dared to say them to. Yet he didn't regret them. They felt – right. "Someone had to say them."

"They meant a lot to him." Gabriel's hand slid out of Spencer's hair and he pulled the boy up and in a little, just enough to hug him. "To me, too."

"I just hope they worked."

Quiet fell over the room once more. Spencer just held on, knowing that this was very much the calm before the storm.

* * *

It was a much more subdued group that gathered together in Gabriel's dining room not even an hour later. As seemed to happen for these big conversations, the group seemed to be split into sections of 'us' and 'them'. Spencer, Gabriel, Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat on one end of the table, with Gabriel at the head and Spencer actually perched on the armrest, which was a bit of a reversal of their usual way of sitting. At the other end, Michael sat with Raphael at his side. Lucifer stood casually off to the side like he wasn't going to join them. Like it was no big deal for him to just stand and lean against the wall instead of seating himself with them. Spencer wanted to say something, to draw him to the table, but the light touch of Gabriel's hand on his leg drew his gaze downwards and his guardian gave a small shake of his head, a silent 'no'. Smothering a sigh, Spencer kept quiet.

Gabriel, in true fashion, didn't really beat around the bush. He reclined back a bit in his chair, one leg kicked up to cross over the other, and he cradled a mug of sugary smelling coffee in his hands as he looked down at his brothers and arched one eyebrow. The amused mask of the trickster sat on his face. "So, I see you guys managed not to kill one another overnight."

"We've come to an… understanding." Michael said slowly. It looked like Raphael wanted to say something, yet he stayed silent. Still, Spencer could see his wings twitching behind him in annoyance.

In contrast to their somber moods, Lucifer made an amused sound low in his throat. "What Michael means to say is that we've agreed to put the apocalypse on hold until all this is done with. Until we get this new threat dealt with, I'll stop all my plans." His smile turned just a bit sharp. "That's the best any of you are going to get out of me."

"So we're just supposed to, what?" Dean asked. "Keep you around to help us save the world – which I'm still not convinced you'll actually do – only for you to turn on us and destroy it once we're done? No thanks. We don't need you."

"Dean," Castiel said lowly, his hand going to Dean's shoulder.

Lucifer shook his head. Thankfully, he looked more amused than offended by Dean's words. "You need me, human, whether you like it or not. You've no idea what you're up against. What we're all up against."

"Maybe because no one's bothered explaining it to us." Sam said. In contrast to his brother, his voice was calmer. The two always seemed to work together that way. It amazed Spencer how their moods could change at the drop of a hat to perfectly counter the mood of their sibling.

The whole table went quiet at Sam's words, though. The hunter was right – no one had bothered explaining to them yet what was going on. What this 'big evil' was that they were facing. Gabriel had put them off by saying that he would explain to them after the apocalypse. Now, that time had come, only Spencer wasn't sure that he was ready to hear it. This was something big, he knew. Something huge. And it was something that directly involved him. How, he wasn't sure, and he was both eager and terrified to find out the answer to that.

"You haven't told them yet." Lucifer said slowly, his eyes moving over the humans, up to Spencer, and then to Gabriel.

Gabriel looked a little embarrassed by that for one brief moment. Then his spine straightened and his wings ruffled behind him in a sort of defensive gesture Spencer had seen before when the archangel felt like he was being backed against a wall. "It wasn't the right time. We had other things on our plates."

"The time for hiding is past." Raphael said. It was strange to see him look so gentle in that moment. His eyes flashed to Spencer and his wings twitched like they wanted to reach out. Whatever this was, it was even worse than Spencer had thought. Enough to make the healer want to reach out towards Spencer somehow. That only served to make Spencer's stomach sink a little more.

The sound that Lucifer made was somewhere between a sigh and a scoff. "If none of you are willing to do it, I suppose it falls to me to deliver the bad news. But I suppose that's fitting, isn't it?" Pushing off the wall, he strode forward to one of the tall backed chairs in front of him and lifted his hands to rest on the back of it. His eyes, however, went straight to Spencer and there was no doubt that it was to him alone that he was speaking. "Long before any of your minds can comprehend, my brothers and I bore witness to a prophecy about a coming darkness. An evil that's stronger than anything this world has ever known. One that's powerful enough to scare even our Father."

"Dad's the Creator." Gabriel said, his voice pitched low yet ringing clearly through the room. "He's both dark and light. He made everything. But everyone has their opposites. Where there's creation, there has to be destruction. This thing is it."

"We have no idea where it came from, or how it came into being. Our Father bade us not to speak of it." Michael said. "All we know is that it wants to destroy everything. Not just humans or earth – everything. The prophecy says: _And a darkness will come, greater and more powerful than any before, and it will seek to consume us all. It is death, it is hunger. It is night and the end to all realms above, below, and between_."

" _Many will fight, and many will be lost. Dark will spread over the lands and cover it in its shadow._ " Raphael said softly, clearly reciting something he'd heard.

A chill was spreading over Spencer. His whole body felt like it was freezing, held there in place on the arm of this chair. It felt as if he were barely breathing. With each word they said, he grew a little colder, the chill seeping down into his very grace. Images grew in the back of his mind – memories of the dreams that had terrified him over the years, nightmares he'd been sure were nothing more than horrifying dreams. But as they spoke, he could see it, could _feel_ it. The dark that crept over everything.

 _The air was thick and heavy and the sun long since gone. Only darkness remained. Even the moon was dim, the faint light it cast nothing more than a hint through the dark and death that was all around. Tendrils of that darkness crept out, reaching for him, curling towards his ankles to try and trip him, to catch him and hold him. Darkness behind and darkness ahead, blurring where he'd been and obscuring where he was going._

His breath caught in his throat.

 _It was coming._

"This thing…" Sam paused, clearing his throat. "You're saying this evil is stronger than _God_? How is that possible?"

"We don't know." Gabriel said gently. He reached out, catching Sam's hand in his and holding on.

Spencer watched them with a detached feeling, not quite able to process it all.

 _The door opened once more and the darkness seemed to part at the arrival of its master. From the shadows it stepped, a living nightmare made flesh, and the whole world held its breath in fear._

"What does this have to do with me?"

The words were out before Spencer even realized he was going to speak them. He hadn't planned them, had barely been able to keep his thoughts together, yet once they were past his lips they were the only thing he wanted to know. What did this have to do with him? He knew the prophecy involved him. Gabriel had admitted as much. So what the hell did this have to do with him?

All eyes turned his way and Spencer felt sort of sick when he saw the sorrow on all the archangels. Gabriel's free hand came up to curl over his thigh. The gesture would've soothed Spencer under normal circumstances. Now… now he was too cold to feel it. He didn't _want_ to feel it. His insides were like ice and he felt like he was on the edge of something, ready to fall off it, ready to run away. "Gabriel." He croaked the word out, his voice hoarse. "What aren't you telling me?"

The sorrow in Gabriel's grace grew. Without letting go of Sam's hand, he turned himself a little more until he could look up at Spencer. He tried to curl a wing in towards him, only to stop when Spencer pulled back. Right now the fledgling didn't think he could handle anyone offering any other gentle touches. All of him was focused intently on Gabriel's face, waiting for an answer, terrified of what he might hear.

"Sparrow," Gabriel said the nickname in a soft whisper, full of an ache that was palpable.

Spencer cleared his throat and tried to find some strength inside. Enough to keep his voice somewhat firm when he said "Tell me."

"According to the prophecy, there's only one thing that can stop this thing." Even before Gabriel said the next words, Spencer knew what was coming. Deep down inside of himself he knew. But hearing it was more terrifying than he'd ever known. "A fledgling – a human fledgling."

"Your birth was predicted ages ago." Michael said. "A fledgling of two angels, born to humans. Our only salvation. _He shall bring the light to chase the dark, for the dark can never survive where there is light to shine. He shall lead them, and break them, and make them anew. He is our destruction and our salvation. Without the light, all shall fall to the dark._ "

They were all looking at him now and Spencer couldn't, he just couldn't….no. _No_. They had to be wrong. This stupid prophecy had to be wrong. It couldn't…they couldn't mean him! Before he even realized what he was doing, Spencer found himself up from the chair and backing away from them, towards the wall. "No." He said the word like a prayer, not a statement but a question begging for an answer he wanted to hear. His eyes drifted from one archangel to the next, silently begging them to tell him they were joking, that this was all some big mistake. When he saw nothing like that on them, he took another step back. "No, you're wrong. I'm not… that's not me."

Gabriel pushed up from his chair, his wings stretching towards Spencer. "Little bird…"

" _No_." Spencer cut in sharply. All at once he found anger inside of him; it broke through the ice, sharp and jagged, cutting at him even as it slashed out at the others. "No, you're wrong. This isn't…it's not me. You've got it all wrong. It's someone else. It has to be!"

"You are the only human fledgling." Michael pointed out calmly yet not unkindly.

Spencer shook his head. "Then you're missing something! It's not _me_. It can't be me!"

"Why?" Raphael asked.

Why? _Why_? A hysterical laugh bubbled up Spencer's throat. He was backed up to the wall now, his back pressing hard up against it, and he flattened his palms there as well to keep his hands from lashing out. "Have you seen me?" He demanded. "I'm not – there's nothing special about me! I'm nothing. _Nobody_. I'm just some awkward, nerdy little geek who happens to have angelic parents. There's not a damn special thing about me! I'm certainly not this…this _savior_ you're trying to look for here. It's not me!" How could they not see that? He wasn't some magical savior destined to rescue the world from impending darkness.

The chill of his dreams washed over him again.

 _It was coming._

He'd been hearing those words his whole life. Seeing the dark inside of his dreams. He'd known something was wrong for a long, long time.

 _The world opened up around him. The moon, the stars, almost blotted out by the thick dark that tried to smother and consume them all. The darkness climbed the great stone walls, creeping and oozing over the edge, twisting and curling all in a terrifying dance towards him. In the air he heard the sound of the crows, the howl of the wolf, and the screams of the dead._

"No." Spencer whispered. This time it was more for himself than anyone else. His eyes squeezed shut and he tried to fight it, tried not to see the familiar haunting images, but the chill inside wouldn't let him forget. "No. _No_."

Gabriel moved forward a little more and Spencer heard the pained sound he made, could feel his worry almost rolling off of him. "Spencer, sweetheart, calm down, please. It's going to be okay."

The fear grew and grew until it shook Spencer's whole frame. Worse than any dream, worse than any time he'd woken up alone and terrified inside his bed, because this time there was no one telling him that this wasn't real. Instead, they were telling him just how real it was, and that he was going to have to face it. That he was their only hope for facing it.

The terror grew stronger and the only thing that Spencer could think of was getting out of here – now.

He didn't think about what he was doing. Didn't think about how this was dangerous and he wasn't strong enough, didn't know enough to know what he was doing. Using the instincts that had never steered him wrong in the past, his body took over while his brain couldn't compute anything, and his wings spread wide.

He was gone before anyone could say a word.

* * *

Spencer hadn't thought about where he was flying to. He hadn't thought about anything but his need to get out of there and away from all of it. He flew blindly – something Gabriel had already taught him was dangerous. Right then he just didn't care. He had to get away!

When he landed, it was hard and unbalanced, sending him toppling straight down to the ground. For a moment he just laid there and stared down at his hands in front of him, clutching hard at the solid floor that had taken the brunt of his impact. He didn't hear or see anything at first beyond the terror that still burned brightly inside of him.

It wasn't until he heard a voice that he realized that maybe his flight hadn't been so blind after all.

"Reid?" A voice called out, stunned and incredulous – and oh-so familiar. "Holy shit. Reid, is that you?"

Spencer lifted his head and looked through the screen of hair that had fallen over his face. When he finally looked up, he found that it wasn't some random place he'd flown to. It was a very familiar looking living room inside of a house he'd been to many, many times before. And there, sitting on the couch that Spencer had wasted hours laying on watching movie after movie, sat the man that Spencer's brain and grace had apparently decided he needed to see. A man who was staring at him with an open jaw and wide, shocked eyes.

A sound that was halfway between a gasp and a sob broke past Spencer's lips.

"Morgan, I need your help."

* * *

 _So ends this story! I know, I know. Shitty place to leave it off, I'm sorry. But I've got the next one started and once I get a bit more of it planned out and put together, I'll start posting it I promise!_

 _This story so far has become huge on here, so I'm going to go ahead and break it up to a second story "The Fledgling Series: Part Two" Keep your eye out for it!_


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